


our growing, gnawing fears

by mylongestoof



Series: *carlos joined the party* [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast), Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, As you can tell I am autistic and I must project myself onto every character, Autistic Carlos (Welcome to Night Vale), Autistic Jonathan Sims, Canon Asexual Character, Canon Typical Horror, Cecil is an Avatar, Crossover, Elias gets got, Eyepocalypse Field Trip, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, It Devours Spoilers, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Not really stated but heavily implied, Other, Spiral Avatar Carlos, Spoilers for a spy in the desert, The Helen/Annabelle is really low key, Trans Martin Blackwood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 32,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25372261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylongestoof/pseuds/mylongestoof
Summary: "When the world actually ended, Carlos barely noticed. Night Vale was already so weird that, scientifically, very little about Night Vale changed. The only noticeable difference was the large tower, a panopticon in the otherwise empty desert."
Relationships: Annabelle Cane/Helen | The Distortion, Basira Hussain/Alice "Daisy" Tonner, Carlos/Cecil Palmer, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: *carlos joined the party* [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874161
Comments: 208
Kudos: 305





	1. Chapter One

Carlos entered Night Vale through a door. A bright yellow one that led to intricate hallways that he could never hope to understand. He had walked through those hallways for weeks, hearing a singular voice that continued to taunt him before he found another door that led into a desert.  _ The  _ desert. For the most part, Carlos regarded that as just another odd thing about Night Vale. He thought it was fate that he was brought to the town, even though he did not quite believe in fate.

As a scientist, Carlos was aware of how the world worked. He took the facts and categorized them and tried his best to know the truth, or something close to it. He knew there were fourteen fears. He knew that Night Vale was absolutely full of them, a mixing pot of fear that fed like a Christmas meal. It was surprising that nothing serious ever  _ really  _ happened in Night Vale. All rituals were stopped, either by the town, Carlos, or just because they were never meant to work in the first place. All of the serious threats were neutralized very quickly.

Scientifically, it was a marvel.

But Carlos knew something serious had to come along eventually. If not in Night Vale, then somewhere else. He worried over the eventuality for a long time, trying to see if he could protect the town he had come to love. He had ignored his personal health, his co-workers, and Cecil for a long time in favor of focusing on protecting  _ his  _ town. When it became too much, he knew he had to stop. So he just stopped worrying.

It was easier said than done, but once Carlos had left all of that behind him, he was happier. He got to spend more time with his husband, and later, his child. He was living a charmed life. Still strange, but he loved every second of it.

When the world  _ actually  _ ended, Carlos barely noticed. Night Vale was already so weird that, scientifically, very little about Night Vale changed. The only noticeable difference was the large tower, a panopticon in the otherwise empty desert. For the first two weeks, most citizens thought it was just another publicity stunt from some sort of local business or another secret construction that had happened overnight. It was harmless, so people barely paid any mind to it. They had more serious concerns to deal with.

But Carlos was one of the few citizens who had contact with the world outside of Night Vale. There were no messages from his family or emails from other scientists (although most emails these days were about his ‘perfect hair’). Just...silence. So Carlos studied the panopticon, hoping it had something to do with satellite interference instead of something more serious. He watched it for hours on end and, surprisingly, nothing happened. So Carlos decided, about a week into this venture, that he should take a break and go on a nice date with Cecil. Something to get his mind off of the panopticon and off of his growing worries about his fellow scientists and his family outside of Night Vale.

Cecil proved to be a perfect distraction. They ate at Big Rico’s, which had been rebuilt from the giant centipede attacks, and took a walk in the park. Cecil talked about the news around town, which was never boring, and Carlos talked about why the most common form of human DNA looked like a pasta noodle.

While they were walking back, Cecil mentioned the panopticon.

“It’s strange.” Cecil said, “Everywhere I walk, it is always the same distance from me.” Then he paused, and whispered in his deep radio voice, “There’s something even more strange about it, I Know that.”

Carlos went back to his lab and recruited his scientists to triangulate the exact location of the panopticon. Results came back inconclusive. Basic math did not seem to know the answer, either. Carlos ran this problem through a computer program, and the computer instead showed a very big fish swimming but never  _ really  _ moving. It creeped Carlos out.

That night, when Carlos returned home, he ran through all of the tests he and his scientists did and wondered if there was another solution to his problem. He was silent for the entire night, watching the wall as Cecil gave him his space and took care of household responsibilities.

Then it hit him. If they couldn’t triangulate the location from Night Vale, then they would have to leave Night Vale to find the panopticon. Carlos wouldn’t ask his scientists to do something as dangerous as leaving Night Vale, so he decided to take that role upon himself. After all, Night Vale had never  _ really  _ harmed him before, and it wouldn’t now, especially since he was married to Cecil.

The next day, he took his economically safe car and tried to leave Night Vale.

It had worked. He had left, on the first try.

Carlos drove for two hours, before stopping in a seemingly normal town to ask the local residents if they too had noticed the panopticon (which still hadn’t moved from the same place it always stood, off in the distance). Instead, he found burning buildings and people covered in spiders, screaming and begging for Carlos to save them.

Carlos got back to his car, and drove to the next town, afraid for his life.

The next town was empty and cold, covered in fog even though Carlos was sure he was still in the desert. He saw vague shapes of people, but they didn’t see him. Carlos checked his phone. There was service, he had data, but there was nothing. No news reports, even about the most basic things. No posts on Twitter, or Instagram, or even  _ Tumblr _ . 

Carlos received a text from Cecil, though. He had wished him a good day at work, and he told him that he loved him. Carlos smiled and sat down on the cold sidewalk of the town he was currently in.

The end of the world happened, Carlos told himself, and he had barely even noticed. He might have been able to stop it, but he didn’t. Carlos thought about his mother and his father. What were they experiencing at that moment? An open sky void swallowing them whole? Were they being turned into something they didn’t recognize? Were they also getting eaten by spiders?

Carlos realized that he had stopped breathing, and started to, once more. His parents had to be fine, they  _ had  _ to. He could fix this. He could make a time machine and send it back to before the panopticon appeared since that was most likely involved. No, that would take too long. He had to do something. He just...did not know what to do.

Behind him, a familiar yellow door appeared. It creaked open, and Carlos froze at the sound. He glanced behind him, and saw the yellow door, and immediately recognized it. He jumped up and backed away slowly. 

“Hello!” A voice cheered from beyond the door. Carlos watched as a long-armed being waltzed out of the door, dressed to the nines and completely oblivious to the world around her.

“Oh, it is  _ sooooo  _ good to see you again,  _ Carlos _ !” She cheered, “I remember when Michael had you in our corridors. Oh, it was such a wonderful time, wasn't it?”

Carlos frowned. He didn’t recognize this woman. He only recognized the door.

“Oh, such a shame that Michael didn’t introduce himself. Really, I bet he would have absolutely  _ loved  _ you! But alas, it was not meant to be! My name is Helen, by the way.” She extended her arms out towards him, and he backed up further.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, Carlos, I’m here to  _ help  _ you! You did want to stop this, erm,  _ Eyepocalypse  _ from happening, right?”

“Eyepocalypse?” Carlos asked. Helen pointed up, and Carlos noticed that there were  _ also  _ eyes in the sky. He had forgotten that he was not in Night Vale.

“I know you’re probably used to all of these weird and  _ wacky  _ things, my dear Carlos, which is why I’d be delighted to help you stop this! It’ll be very amusing.”

Carlos definitely did not trust Helen. She was of the Spiral, after all. He had read all about her and her predecessor, Michael. He had even read Uzumaki. He did not like the way she moved or the way she had said his name. Still, she had offered a solution.

“So,” She said, extending her hand somehow further, “What do you say, Carlos?”

Carlos looked down at his phone, then back up at Helen. He did need to stop this. His job as a scientist was to save people and learn about science. He _had_ to do this. Carlos looked back down at his phone. He began typing a message to Cecil.

“Fine.” He said, once he was finished, “I’ll help save the world.”

Helen smiled a very wide smile, and pulled Carlos into the door, before shutting it behind her. Carlos left Night Vale, or it’s surrounding area, through a door.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How do you know all of this?” Martin asked, “Have you worked with the Magnus Institute?”
> 
> Carlos shook his head, “I’m a scientist. It’s my job to know things and study them. When you study a place like Night Vale, you tend to learn about the Entities that reside there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My headcanon for what Cecil looks like is very evident in this chapter.

Carlos blinks, and the hallways he was pulled into are suddenly behind him. He is now in a different place, his ears ringing as Helen cheerfully greets someone. Carlos can feel the crunch of the ground beneath his feet and he wants to throw up. He doesn’t, though. He remains calm and only burps a few times. He notices that the panopticon is still there, standing in the distance, looming over him.

“How did you find us?” A voice asked, cutting through the ringing of Carlos’s ears like a hot knife would cut through cheese, “And who is that?”

Helen smiled, “I thought you would Know everything at this point!”

The voice, still very clear in Carlos’ head, spoke again, “I do.”

A more faint voice said, “I don’t, so would you care to enlighten me?”

Helen pushes Carlos in front of her. The further Carlos got from the door, the quieter the ringing was. He could finally stand up straight without the overwhelming urge to puke.

“I’ve brought you a friend!” Helen said, “To help on your little...quest. He has a similar goal, after all. Go on and introduce yourself.” She nudged Carlos again.

Carlos opened his mouth, but the tiny man in front of him interrupted.

“This is Carlos.” The man said, “Helen wasn't lying when she said he has a similar goal.” The man stared at Carlos with amazement, “Where did you come from?”

“Night Vale.” Carlos answered, “You...might not have heard of it.”

“I have.” The man said, “I Know of it. I believe, Martin, that we’ve received several statements involving Night Vale. Do you remember?” The tiny man turned to Martin, who nodded.

“It was that town in America, right?” Martin asked.

Helen clapped her hands happily, “Correct! I dragged poor Carlos here away from his home. He came voluntarily, of course. And, now that I think of it, he wasn't  _ in  _ Night Vale at all.”

“I left for a bit to investigate the panopticon.” Carlos explained, “I’m sure, as Helen said, that you Know everything, especially about me.”

“It’s...hazy.” The man admitted.

“Really?” Carlos asked. Carlos was sure that this man was an avatar of sorts, probably of the Eye. He was very similar to Cecil in that way. Still, Cecil had been able to Know things about Carlos in a blink of an eye.

The man held out his hand, clearly aiming for a handshake, “My name is Jon.”

Carlos stared down at it, and shook his head, “I don’t do handshakes.”

Jon frowned and dropped his hand. He stared at Carlos, the gears in his head turning and trying to make sense of something Carlos had no way of knowing.

“Why did you bring him, Helen?” Jon asked.

“As I had _clearly_ said before, he has the same goal as you. He is like a gift...again! I do take a bit of pride in what  _ Michael  _ did all those years ago. It’s not every day I hand over a gift to an avatar as powerful as myself.”

Carlos frowned, “I was a gift?”

Helen nodded furiously, “Do you not see that, Carlos? I’m sure a man of your intelligence would have realized that my delivery of you to Night Vale was  _ not  _ coincidental.”

“What avatar are you talking about?” Martin asked.

“Well, this time it is Jon.” Helen said, “I do wish success in your little adventure, of course, and Carlos has proven time and time again to be the best person to deal with a place like  _ this _ !” She motions to the world around her. Carlos could tell that she was trying to distract them.

“This time?” Jon asked.

Helen sighed, “I’ve left crumbs, Jon. Ugh,  _ sigh _ , you’ll probably glean it from Carlos. He understands. Sorry to leave so soon, though, but I’ve got places to be and people to-well...you know. Ta!” She hopped back into her door and closed it with a resounding thump.

Jon turned back to Carlos, “What does she mean?”

Carlos was hesitant to share his hypothesis with these two strangers, but they seemed to be trustworthy at least. Carlos was also aware of their shared goal, so that had to prove something about them. It couldn’t hurt more than it would do good.

“She brought me to Night Vale.” Carlos said, turning around and staring at the unfamiliar skyline, “Years ago, actually. If we believe her words to be true, then it is safe to assume that she delivered me there as a  _ gift _ to Cecil.”

Jon crossed his arms and frowned further, “An Avatar.”

“He is my  _ husband _ .” Carlos said, glaring at Jon, “And an Avatar of the Eye.”

“Like Jon?” Martin asked.

“Impossible.” Jon said, “There is only one Archivist.”

“He isn’t an Archivist. He’s referred to as The Voice of Night Vale. Similar, but clearly different.”

“How do you know all of this?” Martin asked, “Have you worked with the Magnus Institute?”

Carlos shook his head, “I’m a scientist. It’s my job to know things and study them. When you study a place like Night Vale, you tend to learn about the Entities that reside there.”

“But you yourself aren’t an Avatar, correct?” Jon asked.

“Of course not. I’m just a normal human being.” Carlos smoothed out his lab coat and sighed, “You know where the panopticon is, right?”

“If you follow it, you’ll eventually get there. You just have to go through all of the things in between.” Jon looked like he had said that before, and the anxious gaze of Martin proved that he had.

“Well, then let’s walk,” Carlos said. They continued to head in the direction of the panopticon. It was a slow pace, slower than Carlos would have liked, but he was finally glad that he was able to actually get somewhere.

Jon seemed to be the leader of the group, forging ahead to make sure everything was alright but still close enough to hear, or Know if Martin was in trouble.

“Where exactly are we?” Carlos asked Martin.

“Scotland, I think. We haven’t reached the border, yet.”

“The border to England? Is that where the tower is?”

Martin chuckled, “Yes. In London. Quite impossible to see it from here usually, but…” Martin didn’t finish his sentence. They walked in silence, Jon still ahead of them.

“What’s it like?” Martin asked, staring at Jon, “Being married to an Avatar of the Eye?”

Carlos thought about the question for a moment, before answering, “I’m not entirely sure, yet.”

“Is it...safe?” Martin asked.

Carlos chuckled, “Safety is an illusion, or that’s what Cecil tells me. Nothing is truly safe, no matter how hard we try to make it. Especially not in Night Vale.”

“It sounds like you really tried.”

Carlos nodded, “I did, for a while. I saved Night Vale a few hundred times. Then I was...gone, and I discovered that the only world-ending thing that had happened was that Cecil was sad that I wasn't there.”

“You...died?!” Martin asked.

“What? No, I just...I got…” Carlos didn’t know how to explain it, “I was trapped in another place.” That seemed appropriate. Martin let out an exhale of relief.

“I was trapped in another place, too.” Martin said, “Well...several places, now that I think of it. It’s not fun.”

“The opposite,” Carlos mumbled. He wondered what Cecil was doing. If he was on the radio, completely unaware of the bomb of a text Carlos had sent him. If he was with Esteban, patiently waiting for Carlos to return home.

Carlos pulled out his phone and stared down at the screen. No reception here, but Carlos expected that.

“Is that him?” Martin asked.

Carlos knew he was referring to the lock screen photo, a selfie of him and Cecil that Cecil had managed to sneak one night, about a year ago, before they had Esteban. 

“Yes,” Carlos answered, smiling softly. For the first time in Carlos’ life, he felt the need to show every single photo of Cecil or Esteban to a complete stranger. His dad instincts must have kicked in.

“He looks…” Martin paused, “-happy?”

Cecil was difficult to look at, especially if you had never seen him in person before. Still, Carlos thought he was beautiful.

Carlos spoke with a noticeable fondness, “He is happy in this photo.” 

“You know...he sort of looks like...Jon.” Martin laughed out loud, and Carlos stared at the photo further.

At the mention of his name, Jon turned around.

“I don’t see it,” Carlos admitted, frowning at the thought of Jon looking anything like Cecil.

“Well, he has the skin color and a few scars. Did he dye his hair, or is it just supernaturally white?” Martin asked.

“Martin-” Jon said, letting out a warm sigh, “What are you talking about?”

Martin motioned for Jon to join them, and he followed suit. Soon, he was standing between Martin and Carlos, staring at a photo of Cecil, staring as intently as Carlos was.

“I…” Jon furrowed his eyebrows, “Why does he have so many eyes?”

Martin chuckled, “Jon, you’re a baby compared to him.”

“To be fair,” Carlos said, “Cecil has been alive for at least one hundred years. He’s had more experience and more time to grow more eyes.”

“One hundred years.” Jon repeated, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“On the plus side,” Martin said, clearly amused, “You have a lot of time to  _ end  _ the end of the world. Definitely more than me.”

“Don’t even joke about that, Martin. You know I couldn’t do this without you.” Jon smiled at Martin, bittersweet at best, and grabbed his hand so they could continue walking. Carlos looked down at his phone one more time before shutting it off completely. He had to conserve battery.

Carlos put his phone in his lab coat pocket and trailed behind Martin and Jon in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be much longer chapters after this since they won't start in the middle of an episode.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t tell Jon this, but...I’m glad that Helen brought you. I mean, I love Jon, but it’s nice to know that there are other people in the world who actually understand what’s going on.”
> 
> Carlos fought the urge to reply with a scientific and sarcastic remark about how no one truly understands what’s going on ever. Instead, Carlos asked a question that had been on the very back of his mind for a while, “Does Jon not like me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Description of minor character death

The circus music was annoying. Carlos was never the type to enjoy carnivals, circuses, or fairs. Cecil seemed to be the one to enjoy those things much more than Carlos ever could. If Cecil were with him, though, he would not enjoy this place. No, Carlos was certain that Cecil would want to destroy this place, just like he had destroyed the last carnival that came into Night Vale.

Carlos hated the Stranger. It reminded him of the sandstorm he had experienced the first year he stayed in Night Vale. There were no words to describe the fear he had felt when Kevin’s voice spoke instead of Cecil’s. While Kevin was more aligned with the Hunt, there was no use in denying the Stranger’s interference.

Off in the distance, Martin and Jon were speaking quietly with each other. They were probably discussing the best way to go through this trainwreck of a place. Carlos didn’t need to be involved. This wasn't his home, after all. He didn’t know their customs or any of the riders on the twisted merry-go-rounds. 

Carlos closed his eyes and tried to drown out the sound of the screaming riders with his own thoughts. While he was attempting to make some peace and quiet, Martin and Jon returned.

“Are you alright?” Martin asked, hesitant to touch Carlos’s shoulder.

Carlos sighed and opened his eyes, “Quite. I’m usually used to screaming but they are _very_ loud, aren’t they?”

Jon nodded, “They are very loud, but it isn’t their fault. They’re the victims.”

“And there’s no way to help them?” Martin asked.

“There is.” Carlos said, “We’ve got to get to the panopticon.”

Martin hummed, before turning to Jon, “So, you said that they were all victims. Where’s the monster?”

Jon looked around, before turning back to Martin, “I’m hoping that we can avoid her. If we’re quick, then I’m positive that we can.”

“Her?” Martin and Carlos asked at the same time.

“Please tell me Nikola isn’t here,” Martin said, worry growing. Carlos didn’t ask who Nikola was. Judging by Martin’s apprehension and the state of the place they were in, Carlos deduced that Nikola was Bad, capital and everything.

“She died with the Unknowing. No, this is...well, an _old friend_.” Jon was timid and shaky, something that gave Carlos great concern. Martin understood immediately. Carlos was left out of the loop. Well, at least Nikola was dead.

“I’d rather not deal with her if we can avoid it.” Jon continued.

Carlos decided that he would ask Martin about it later if he was okay with speaking about this elusive _her_. 

Martin coughed awkwardly, “Do you think it’s a good time to do your, erm, your thing now before we get going? Are you close enough?” 

“What thing?” Carlos asked.

“I take statements.” Jon explained, “To feed. Surely Cecil does something similar.”

Carlos nodded, “Yes, right, of course. Well, I’d best leave you to it.” Carlos began to walk away, and Martin quickly followed him. They continued to walk until the faint sound of Jon’s voice was unrecognizable through the screams. They sat down on the ground for a moment's rest.

“Who was Jon talking about?” Carlos asked once he gathered the courage to, “This _her_ that you both referred to? She is bad, right?”

Martin sighed, “You live in Night Vale. Surely you’ve heard of the Stranger. Or at least experienced something involving it.”

Carlos thought vaguely of the night he and Cecil had their first date. He remembered the shadow people, chasing citizens and turning them into more shadow people. It had taken hours to figure out a solution to that problem. Not to mention the Hooded Figures, and even the Faceless Old Woman.

“I have.”

“It took our friend.” Martin explained, “And it pretended to be her for...a _while._ ” Martin laughed, but it was not a happy laugh. No, Martin probably felt quite guilty. Perhaps he thought he could have done something, _perhaps he really could have_ , but dreading on it wouldn't fix the past. Carlos didn't tell him that.

“And she’s here,” Carlos finished.

They sat in silence for a while, staring at the lights from the merry-go-round. If Carlos ignored the circumstances he would think that the lights looked quite pretty. Perhaps, when Carlos got back home, he could ask Cecil to paint something. Not this, but something else. Something better.

Martin shook his head suddenly, “Let’s talk. I’m tired of thinking about this.”

“Talk about what?” Carlos asked, “I’m not exactly a conversationalist. If it weren’t for my interest in the unnatural, I’d be very boring.”

Martin shrugged, “I’m not sure. Just...something. What’s your...favorite color?”

“Orange.” Carlos answered, “What’s _your_ favorite color?”

“Green, I think.” Martin said, “Or pink. Yeah, green or pink. What’s your favorite movie?”

If Carlos was in Night Vale, he would be legally required to answer that question with any movie involving Lee Marvin.

“I recently saw a showing of Coraline three weeks ago.”

“Coraline came out in 2009.” Martin pointed out.

“Did it? Well, it takes a while for City Council to approve movies. I’m lucky I even saw it at all. They were only showing it once.”

Martin sighed, “Well, I like...actually, I don’t think I have a favorite movie.”

“You don’t?” Carlos asked, “Not even one from childhood?”

“I mean, I saw Finding Nemo when it came out, but I never had time for movies.” Martin shook his head, “I can’t imagine asking Jon this type of stuff. He probably Knows all of my answers.”

“Cecil Knows my answers, but he lets me say them anyway. I bet Jon would still like to hear you explain it.”

Martin leaned back and looked up at the stars, which were hardly visible with all of the lights from the merry-go-rounds. Carlos did the same. He was tired of walking, and he wanted to rest. The stars in the sky were different from the ones in Night Vale, but Carlos recognized them. He did have a weird astronomy phase in middle school.

“Don’t tell Jon this, but...I’m glad that Helen brought you. I mean, I love Jon, but it’s nice to know that there are other people in the world who actually understand what’s going on.”

Carlos fought the urge to reply with a scientific and sarcastic remark about how no one _truly_ understands what’s going on _ever_. Instead, Carlos asked a question that had been on the very back of his mind for a while, “Does Jon not like me?”

“He doesn’t trust you.” Martin answered, “Which...it’s pretty understandable. You came here because of Helen, after all, and Annabelle Cane has been calling me, so Jon is a bit worried that…”

“That I’m being used for something nefarious?” Carlos finished again.

Martin nodded, “The nature of the Web is to manipulate. For all we know, you could potentially be used against us, even if you didn’t want to. That’s what Jon’s afraid of.”

Carlos sighed, “I suppose there’s nothing I can do to prove my intentions?”

Martin shook his head. No, there wasn't.

Carlos let out a long sigh, “Then I understand his apprehension.” Martin frowned, but he did not say anything else.

Carlos could see the faint figure of Jon walking closer, and sat back up. He was eager to continue the journey, ready to get back home already. The creature that Martin had told him about earlier didn’t sound too pleasant either. Carlos really, _really_ wanted to leave this place.

“Martin.” Jon said once he was close enough, “Are you ready to go?”

Martin nodded before standing up and taking his spot next to Jon without another word. 

* * *

Carlos, despite living in a place like Night Vale, had never been in a situation where he was not trusted. He was a scientist, and everyone trusted scientists. He had been Cecil’s partner, and later his husband, and everyone trusted Cecil, so they trusted Carlos. But in this place, it was different. In this place, Carlos wasn't anybody but Carlos. They didn’t trust him, and Carlos knew that, if given an ultimatum, both Martin and Jon would leave Carlos to whatever horrors this world had created. That was, scientifically, the smart decision. Carlos didn’t like that.

Carlos had come to terms with his mortality hundreds of times in his life. When he was five and went to his cousin’s funeral, he couldn’t stop thinking about where his cousin had gone. Then he realized that maybe his cousin never went anywhere, or maybe he went everywhere and someday Carlos would go there, or nowhere, too. It happened again when he was seven, when he was eleven, when he was sixteen, then it continued for the rest of his life. But, strangely enough, he hadn’t done it recently. Not since he and Cecil got married, and _definitely_ not since they had Esteban.

It was weird, now that Carlos had the time and mental energy to actually think about what comes after death. He never _really_ had to worry about anyone in the event that he had died. He reasoned that he and Cecil weren’t yet married, so if he had died then Cecil could probably move on. But now they were married, and they had a son together. Carlos didn’t want to die. Carlos didn’t want to think about what would happen if he did die. Unfortunately, Carlos’s brain often didn’t listen to him, and it was quite the problem.

Jon and Martin were ahead of him, talking about a poem or something. They seemed to be happy at least, much happier than Carlos was. Bantering back and forth, a distraction in this otherwise miserable world. Carlos was not jealous, he was just homesick and tired. Carlos closed his eyes, figuring that, since they were walking in a straight line, it would be alright. No, instead he ran right into Jon, who was pushed behind Martin.

“Wha-”

“My _dearest_ colleagues.” Said a _thing_ in front of them. Carlos gawked at it, amazed and terrified at the possibility that a thing like that could possibly function. Another scientific marvel! Carlos needed to document this.

“And...the scientist.” The thing smirked, or at least Carlos thought it smirked.

Martin picked something up, a random object that was otherwise ignored, and threw it at the thing, “Get back!”

Neither Carlos nor Jon got back.

“I can’t believe you’d decide to pass through _my_ neighborhood and not say hello to _dear, old Sasha_.”

Jon stared at the thing with no expression, a skill that was cleverly cultivated through hours of pretending not to care. Carlos wormed his way around Jon and took his stance beside Martin.

“Is this-” Carlos began to ask.

“Yes,” Martin answered immediately.

“Ignore it, Martin,” Jon warned.

The thing shot a glare at him, clearly angry and upset. Carlos almost wished that he could turn his phone on so he could take notes on the thing. It looked wonderfully terrifying, and Carlos _knew_ that Cecil would appreciate it.

“Ignore it?” The thing asked, “Surely you wouldn’t ignore me if I, say, wear another one of your little friends? Hmm, what about the scientist? No, he’s much too expendable. What about Martin, then? He looks plenty roomy!”

“Should we run?” Martin asked, his voice wavering with fear.

Carlos immediately shook his head, reaching for his phone, “Not yet, I-”

“You should!” The thing said, “You should run, Martin! I’ll even give you a head start!”

Carlos stared at the start-up screen for his phone. It always took so long! Carlos cursed his phone.

Jon started laughing, and both Martin and Carlos turned to him, confused.

“Jon?” Martin asked, slightly terrified.

He continued laughing, and Carlos’s phone chimed with a small five-note song. It was still loading.

“You’re bold, I’ll give you that,” Jon said. The thing hissed something that Carlos couldn’t understand, and Jon continued, “Desperate for one last morsel of terror from us?”

The thing snarled, and Martin began to back up, pulling Carlos along with him.

“A final slip and then we’re gone? Somehow we manage to keep just ahead of you and get away. God forbid you actually catch us.” Jon sounded more amused than anything. Carlos wouldn’t lie if he said that it scared him.

“Doesn’t bear thinking about,” Jon said, ominously.

Carlos stared down at his phone, which had just turned on. Instead of the usual lock screen, however, there was a notice that the phone needed to be updated. Only, Carlos didn’t have _any_ service. Carlos really hated this brand.

“Jon, what are you talking about?!” Martin asked although one could make a comparison to begging.

“She can’t touch us.” Jon revealed, much to the dismay of the thing (Carlos had no idea what to call it), “We’re so far beyond her now. She’s just like everything here: ruled by the Eye. And she _hates_ it.”

“Is this normal behavior?” Carlos asked, “Because this doesn’t seem very normal. In fact, he is quite-”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Martin said, simply. He looked just as confused as Carlos felt, but Carlos had a feeling that he felt...safe. While the thing droned on about how it felt, Carlos dismissed the update and pulled up the camera on his phone, desperate to take a photo.

“Pathetic.” Jon said, before stepping back, “Martin, Carlos...let’s go.”

Carlos sighed as Jon and Martin began walking away. He didn’t want to stray too far from them in case the thing got any ideas (mostly identity stealing ones) so he turned his phone off for a moment. At least he could still get a photo of the place they found themselves in. Still, the disappointment of a missed opportunity was always heavy.

But then Carlos heard it speak again. Oftentimes, Carlos often heard things louder than most. It was so quiet, the words that were uttered from the thing’s grotesque mouth. Carlos was surprised that Jon had heard it at all.

“Not as pathetic as your little friend when I ate her life.” It muttered.

Jon stopped. The air smelled a bit strange, like how flat Sprite tasted. Something had changed, and judging by the way Martin hurriedly looked around, Carlos knew his hypothesis was correct.

“What did you say?” Jon asked. Carlos instantly remembered the handful of times Cecil had spoken just like Jon had. For a second, everyone stood still, including the mangled monster behind them. Carlos felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when the thing muttered a terrified apology.

“Jon?” Martin asked, once more.

When Jon speaks again, the thing cries out in pain. Carlos feels a sharp sting like a small knife was suddenly pushed through his skull. It feels like painful static, the sort that Carlos would hear or see on the TV and the radio. Was this how that thing felt? Why was Carlos feeling it?! He swayed suddenly, his brain too preoccupied to stand.

“Carlos?!” Martin cried, before catching him.

For a second, Carlos thought he was going to die. Then he remembered the phone in his hand and his need to capture the monster in its panicked state. Carlos lifted the phone. As scientists say: If you're going to die, you should at least try to document it! For scientific purposes, of course.

_“Ceaseless Watcher turn your gaze upon this wretched thing,”_ Jon spoke, his voice ringing out in Carlos's head.

The thing cried, completely whole when Carlos took the photo. The thing _exploded_ violently, strong enough to push Carlos back a bit. The static lingered for a moment, then the air returned to normal and the sound dissipated.

“Carlos, are you alright?” Martin asked, clearly alarmed.

Jon turned and stared at Carlos and Martin, panicked, “I...I don’t...understand…”

It took a second for Carlos to properly understand what Martin was saying. The headache took a bit to fade away, after all. But once it stopped, Carlos answered him.

“I’m fine.” Carlos said, “I’ve just...got bad headaches.” It wasn't technically a lie, because he _did_ just have a bad headache. It wasn't his fault if they interpreted that as constant headaches.

“But you’re alright now?” Martin asked, “You aren’t hurt?”

Carlos nodded, “No, I’m quite fine. You can stop touching me, now.”

Martin quickly jumped away, “Oh, sorry!”

Carlos pulled himself up from the ground, picking up his phone in the process. He pulled up his gallery and stared at the photo he took, the last moment of the thing’s existence. How morbid.

Behind him, Jon mumbled to himself, an explanation that no one heard except Jon. It seemed that he was still in shock after what had just taken place. Carlos didn’t mind, and he was sure that Martin hadn’t either.

“Are _you_ okay?” Martin asked, directing his question to Jon.

“I’m alright,” Jon answered, hardly convincing.

“Do you...know what you just did?” It was a clear question, hardly accusatory. 

“I-I think.” Jon said, “I just...I don’t understand, this wasn't supposed to happen.”

“What, was she _supposed_ to kill us?” Martin asked.

“No, not that...it’s…” Jon glanced at Carlos, “...it’s nothing, Martin. We should go.”

“But what about what just happened?” Martin asked, pushing further.

_“Please.”_ Jon begged, “Can we just leave?”

Martin sighed, “Of course.” He didn't sound too keen on the idea of letting it go, but for Jon, he'd do anything.

Jon brushed past Carlos, shrinking under his gaze. Something was up, Carlos reasoned. Beside him, Martin stopped. He probably knew something was off, too. 

“I don’t understand,” Martin said simply.

“Neither do I."

Martin sighed and followed Jon, just like they had been doing before this. For Carlos, it felt like he had just gone through yet another traumatic experience. Alas, there wasn't much he could do, except to follow Martin and Jon. As he walked, however, he thought vaguely about what Cecil would be up to at this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to take some of the dialogue from MAG165, but I tried not to use a lot of it because I'm pretty sure that most of us here have heard or read it before.
> 
> Is Carlos' phone an Apple, Android, or something else?


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a question,” Carlos said. Helen smiled at him and motioned for Carlos to continue.
> 
> “How did the world end?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Manipulation and death threats (all from Annabelle)

Cecil wasn't allowed to check his phone at work, and it didn’t bother him. Oftentimes, Cecil would just Know if something was wrong, either with Carlos or with Esteban. So the phone ban wasn't a problem for him. What was a problem, however, was that sometimes Cecil would be focused on other things. He was reporting the traffic when Carlos supposedly left. That had to be why Cecil didn’t Know.

He didn’t want to think of the other reasons why he wouldn’t Know.

After work, he drove to the daycare Esteban went to. He picked his son up and took him to Big Rico’s to get their weekly and _mandatory_ pizza while also checking on Carlos, whom Cecil still thought was in town. When Carlos walked into the lab with Esteban, he was surprised to find only one scientist: Dave.

“Where’s Carlos?” Cecil asked.

Dave looked up from his experiment, “Huh? Oh...yeah, he hasn’t come back yet. Sorry.” He looked down at his experiment, before looking back up at Esteban, “You brought Esteban?!”

Cecil looked down at his son, “...Yes, I did.”

Dave took off his safety glasses, his safety gloves, his safety fedora, and his safety imitation gills so he could safely fawn over Esteban, who enjoyed the attention.

Cecil handed Esteban to Dave and focused on where Carlos was at. The answer wasn't clear. It was heavily distorted and included an emoji of a yellow door for some reason. Cecil frowned, and tried to think harder.

“You should check your phone.” Dave said, speaking as if he was cooing at Esteban, “He might have texted you.”

Cecil hadn’t thought of that. It was a habit, after all, to mostly ignore his phone. Cecil took it out and saw that he had received a text from Carlos sent about two hours ago. Cecil opened up, and read it.

_Hey honey,_ it said, _how are you? Good? Good. I left Night Vale today to investigate that panopticon that’s been on the skyline for a few weeks now, and as it turns out, the entire world has ended. I nearly got eaten whole by spiders. Fortunately, I decided that I was going to fix it. Unfortunately, it might take a while and I might be without cell service. Take care of Esteban for me, and take care of yourself. I love you._

Cecil reread the message several times before he turned off his phone. He was mad at Carlos. He was mad that Carlos felt like he had to save the world all on his own. He was mad because the last Cecil checked, the world _hadn’t_ ended.

“Where is the panopticon?” Cecil asked, out loud and very accidental. He immediately got an answer.

_London._

Dave was singing a song to Esteban, some nursery rhyme he knew from his childhood in Ohio. The panopticon was in London, but where was Carlos? The door emoji flashed in his mind again, and he shook his head. It was safe to assume that Carlos was not in London. Then where was he?

Another yellow door emoji. Cecil turned to Dave, “How would you like to babysit Esteban for a few days?”

Dave gasped, “Oh, would I? I would! I would love it very much!” Dave chuckled and continued to play with Esteban. He would be safe with Dave, and while Cecil was very hesitant to leave him, he knew that no harm would come to him.

“So, where are you going?” Dave asked.

“London.” Cecil answered, “I...to be honest, I have no idea if I’ll be back in a few days or a few months.”

“Time doesn’t work in Night Vale.” Dave pointed out, “Carlos drills that into us. Who knows, it could only be a few days until you return. Could be several years. In any case, Esteban and I will await your return.”

“I know,” Cecil said. Dave handed Esteban back to him, and he chanted happily.

Cecil smiled, “Aw, look at that. He already knows his bloodstone chants!”

“Very cute!” Dave chimed in.

“I know!” Cecil kissed his son and whispered his farewells, hoping that this trip would take a day at most. It was wishful thinking, but even Cecil Knew that it wasn't true. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be long for Esteban, at least.

Cecil left Night Vale that night, after giving Dave the keys to his home and promising that Carlos would give him a raise. Luckily the world was flat all the way around. That made it much easier for Cecil to drive to London from America.

* * *

They were somewhere in a domain of the Buried. It was muddy and rainy. It made Carlos’s already stained lab coat more stained. But this wasn't the worst place to be. There was a howling in the distance, but it wasn't as bad as the carnival music or the screams or the bright lights. It was a dreadful place, yes, but it was strangely calming. Or maybe Carlos was just tired. That was also a possibility.

Nobody had spoken since what had previously happened. Usually, Carlos wouldn’t mind, as he loved not speaking, but the silence weighed on him. He had come to appreciate Martin’s small ramblings. He had come to appreciate Jon’s snarky remarks. He had come to appreciate _them_ , which was something he had not expected.

It had been a few days at least. Carlos wasn't used to being alone. It made sense, scientifically, that he was glad that Martin and Jon were there with him. But it was not ideal. _Nothing about this situation is ideal,_ Carlos told himself, _this is quite literally the end of the world!_ Carlos sighed, frustrated with himself. He didn’t have to be so rude right now.

“So,” Carlos said, breaking the silence for once in his life, “Are we ever going to talk about what happened?”

“I would like to,” Martin said.

Jon sighed, “You both saw what happened. What is there to tell?”

“We never got your perspective.” Carlos said, “And you were acting strange afterward.”

“Of course I was!” Jon snapped, “I killed it! I’m going to be upset!”

Carlos frowned, “Don’t snap at me.” He commanded.

Jon’s anger quickly melted away and he slouched, guilty, “I’m...I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven.” Carlos said, “Neither Martin nor I understand what happened. It’s alright that you’re upset, that is expected, but you can’t be upset at the fact that we want to know what happened.”

“I know.” Jon said, “It’s...I can’t explain it. I don’t...I don’t _want_ to-” There was a sudden knock, interrupting Jon. Whatever emotionally devastating bomb Jon was about to drop had been, well, dropped. Not in the way it was supposed to, though. Carlos could practically see the question mark above Martin’s head.

Jon sighed, “Look down, Martin.”

Martin looked down, and they saw a familiar yellow door near his fit. Martin cursed and jumped away, right before the door opened, revealing Helen in all of her Distortion glory.

“Oh hello!” She said, waving her arms, “It’s _so_ good to see that you’re still alive, Carlos. And Martin, you look just as stressed out as you were last time!” She smiled and turned to Jon, “So how was it? Tell me how you felt obliterating Not-Sasha?”

“Not-Sasha?” Carlos asked. He could have been calling the thing _Not-Sasha_ the entire time?

“Did Jon not tell you?” Helen asked, “Oh, Jon, you realize that it would be in your _best_ interest if you told Carlos _everything_.” She smirked, “Like, say, how the world ended in the first place.”

“Or how you killed Not-Sasha.” Martin piped up. Jon glared at Martin.

“Oh, Jon, can you believe this?” She asked, “Martin is coming to _me_ for clear answers!” She gasped and leaned towards him, “Well, I’ll _tell_ you!”

“Helen,” Jon warned.

Helen whipped around, knowing exactly what to say, “What? Are you going to destroy me too? Well, I’m not going to fight you, but do know that even if you somehow fix this whole mess, Carlos would have no way of getting home back to his husband and his poor baby child.” Helen pouted, although it was clear that she was actually very amused.

“Child?” Martin and Jon asked.

_“That’s not the point!”_ Helen sang, “I was asked for an explanation. Shall I explain, Jon?”

Everyone turned to look at Jon, and he nodded reluctantly. Helen clapped her large hands, “Perfect.”

She dragged Jon and Carlos in front of Martin, ignoring their pleads to be left out of her explanation. She tapped both of their heads, and ruffled Carlos’s hair, “Perfect.”

“Wha-”

“Hush Martin.” She said, “Look around you, look at where you’ve been. The cabin, the village, the trenches! Every Entity has a place. But-” She pointed one long finger at the panopticon, “-they Eye still rules. Everything we do is for _its_ benefit. Sad world, huh?” She smiled, and Martin nodded.

“Now, there are two roles here. The Watcher,” She taps on Jon’s head, “And the Watched.” She taps on Carlos’s head, “Subject, and object. Those who are feared, and those who are afraid.”

“That doesn’t-”

“Let me finish.” Helen said, “Jon here can do something _rather special_. He can invert it. Turn one into the other. Now, imagine Not-Sasha, knowing that. Can you see how terrible it was to be Watched? To be _seen_ for the first time? It killed her, or it rather.”

“That’s…” Jon frowned, “Not what you’re supposed to say.”

Helen smirked at Jon, “Now, what was I supposed to say, Jon? It is correct, you know it. What was _wrong_ about it?”

Jon didn’t answer her.

“Can’t put your finger on it?” She asked, lifting up her finger and tapping on Carlos’s head, “Well, such a shame. Now my presentation is over, Martin. Feel free to ask any questions!” She let go of Carlos and Jon.

“I…” Martin frowned, “That answered most of my questions, actually.”

“Most.” Helen hummed, “But not all. Tell me, Martin? What’s confusing you? Do you need to ask Jon something? Do you need to ask _Carlos_ something?”

“I have a question,” Carlos said. Helen smiled at him and motioned for Carlos to continue.

“How did the world end?”

It was silent. Helen’s smile was as bright as the sun, and Jon didn’t speak again for a whole minute. Carlos stared at all of them, waiting for someone to answer his question.

“Well,” Martin said, “It technically starts with Elias, doesn’t it?”

Helen chuckled, “Ah, Jonah Magnus. That’s where we’re starting, right?”

“I ended the world.” Jon said, “Stop…stop trying to push the blame off of me.”

“But it isn’t your fault.” Martin argued, “Elias, _he_ tricked you!”

“Elias is Jonah Magnus?” Carlos asked.

“Yes.” Helen said, “It’s kind of funny to hear someone ask that now. That was _so_ season three material.” She snickered, “Long story short, Magnus tricked Jon into starting the end of the world at the last minute, right after he and Martin got away from the institute.”

“That sounds…” _Sad._ Carlos glanced over at Jon and Martin, both arguing about whether or not Jon was at fault.

“Hmm, yes.” Helen said, not terribly impressed, “Very sad, I suppose. But, oh well, there are sadder things that are coming.” She smiled a knowing smile, then continued to watch Jon and Martin.

“I think we should go for it.” Martin said, “Get our murder on.”

Helen gasped, _“Yes, Martin!”_

Carlos truly did not understand where Martin was coming from this time.

“Excuse me?” Jon asked in disbelief.

Carlos quickly excused himself from that conversation, not wanting to be an accomplice to murder of any kind, even if it was well deserved. While Helen, Jon, and Martin discussed their plot, Carlos decided to take samples of the dirt. Carlos took the samples while thinking about Jon, who had apparently started the end of the world.

Anxiety quelled in Carlos’s stomach. He had been walking with the person who had ended the world, who _started_ this apocalypse, for days! Carlos shook his head, that may be true but it _wasn't_ Jon’s fault. It was Elias’s, a man Carlos had never seen and barely heard about. All the anger Carlos felt could easily be redirected to Elias. It just...took a second.

Carlos closed his eyes, focusing on the noises around him. The wind, the howling, the muffled ringing. Anger shifted. Carlos opened his eyes. Wait, _muffled ringing?_ Carlos looked around, and found a small spade in the ground, near the buzzing.

Carlos sighed and began digging, his curiosity getting the better of him. He digs and digs until he uncovers an old Nokia. Carlos chuckles, of course, a Nokia would survive the apocalypse. He lifted it out of the ground and examined it for a bit, debating on whether or not he should answer.

Once again, his curiosity grew. He answered the phone.

“Hello?” Carlos asked.

_“Hello, is this Martin?”_ A woman asked.

Carlos frowned. Martin was in the distance, walking toward him.

“No.” Carlos answered, “Who are you?”

_“...who are_ you _?”_ The woman asked.

“Carlos.” Carlos answered immediately, “Now, you answer my question. Who. Are. You?”

_“Pushy, aren’t you? Well, if you must know, I’ll give you my name, Carlos. I’m Annabelle.”_

The name sounded familiar, yes, but Carlos couldn’t remember _where_. Martin walked up to him, ready to talk again, but Carlos held up his hand before walking a few feet away.

“And why are you calling this phone?” Carlos asked.

_“I would say you know, but you don’t. After all, this call was meant for Martin, and I was not aware that there was a human anywhere near here.”_

“There is.” Carlos said, “Obviously. Now, unless you have something else to say to me, then I’m hanging up.”

_“Now, now, Carlos. Why ruin all the fun here? Why don’t we play a game: a question game? A game where I ask you some questions, and_ you _answer them!”_

“Doesn’t sound too fun.” Carlos said, “I was never the type for games, anyway.”

_“Oh, I’m sure you’d want to play this game, Carlos. After all, I do have some interesting questions for a man with no last name.”_

“I do have a last name!” Carlos hissed, growing very angry all of a sudden, “It’s Carlos P-” Carlos’s mouth closed, teeth clacking and narrowly missing his tongue.

_“Hmm, yes, you married into a last name, but tell me, Carlos, why don’t you remember your last name? Do you think, maybe, you don’t_ have _one? Do you even remember your parents, Carlos? Do you remember ever speaking to them after you left?”_

Carlos couldn’t respond. He _physically_ couldn’t respond. It was like his mouth was sewn shut. He was glad he couldn’t, because he didn’t want to admit that he _didn’t remember._

_“You’re strange, Carlos. I can sense it, even though the phone. You reek of another place, of another_ person _and yet you’re still here. It’s strange. There is much to think about, I suppose. I heard, from a little spider, that a certain Archivist doesn’t trust you. I can’t imagine what he’d do if he found all of this out.”_

“You’re threatening me,” Carlos whispered, only able to tear his mouth open for a second.

_“Yes. I am. You haven’t heard of Peter Lukas, but you have seen what he did to, what did they call it, Not-Sasha. You’d die a terrible death, Carlos. You would suffer.”_

“Why?” Carlos asked.

_“Why am I telling you this? Well, you know my name. You know I called. So, keep this quiet from the Archivist and his little_ boyfriend _for me?”_

Carlos didn’t respond.

_“Atta-boy. There are plans in the works for you, Carlos, but things still wouldn’t go off-rails if you died. Remember that, if nothing else.”_

Annabelle hung up, and Martin spoke again.

“Was that Cecil?” He asked, oblivious to the conversation Carlos just had.

Carlos slipped the phone into his pocket, planning on destroying it when he had privacy, “...Yes.” Carlos then remembered where he had heard the name Annabelle from, but it was too late. It was too late. This was definitely not good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carlos (in the first half of this), standing in front of Martin at McDonald's: Excuse me, he asked for no pickles.
> 
> Carlos (in the second half of this): *steals everyone's fries out of the bag on the way home*
> 
> Another chapter, again. I'm releasing these very quickly, aren't I? Also, there's a lot of Carlos lore here. I think it's very interesting, but if you think it's stupid, then let me know.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Discussions of injury, arguments, discussions of death

They were walking, and it was normal and quiet, and nothing was going on. For once, they weren’t _in_ any place. Carlos wished that something was happening, that they were running away from something so that he could focus on that instead of the million other things he was thinking about. No matter how hard Carlos wished, however, things weren’t going to change. Carlos was still walking, was still afraid of being found out, and was still afraid of what Annabelle said.

She was right. Carlos didn’t remember his family. He remembered that he had one, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he didn’t have one. He just had a vague and fuzzy memory. So what was Carlos if he had never had a family? Did he truly exist? Were his worst fears being confirmed from Annabelle Cane of all people?

Cecil had told him that it was possible for things not to exist but still be there. Carlos had seen it, especially with The House That Doesn’t Exist. He went to that house, he walked through it multiple times. He performed experiments and proved that it was scientifically possible somehow. So, Carlos could not exist.

Still, it didn’t make sense. Carlos was certain he existed. He could hear himself think, he could make his own choices, and he could die, right at that moment, if he really wanted to. Thankfully, Carlos was not yet at the point where he did want to die, just to prove to himself that he was real.

The hairs on the back of Carlos’s neck stood up, and he turned to glare at Jon, who was staring at him intently.

“Can you stop?” Carlos asked.

Jon frowned, “Stop w... _right_. Sorry about that.”

Carlos shrugged, and they continued walking.

“...How were you able to feel it?” Jon asked.

“I don’t know.” Carlos said, “How are you able to do it?”

Jon didn’t know either. It didn’t take Avatar powers to know that. They were still walking, their shoes crunching on the ground. Carlos hated the sound, but he still pressed forward.

“Do you always look into my head?” Carlos asked, “Because this is the first time I could feel it.”

Jon nodded, “Yes, I do, but I never get anything clear or concise. Nothing that means anything.”

Carlos thought that was good. He wanted to keep some things private, and he didn’t want to be obliterated by Jon. Perhaps Helen had something to do with that. Or perhaps Cecil did.

“Do you know why?” Jon asked, his tone accusatory.

“I presume it’s because of Night Vale.” Carlos lied, “I’ve lived there for many years.” Of course, it wasn't Night Vale. It wasn't the land that made Night Vale what it was. It was the things that lived in it.

“How many years?” Jon asked, “Why did you come here? Why didn’t you tell us about your son?”

“Jon.” Martin said, “Does this matter?”

“Yes, Martin, it matters! Everything has been wrong since _he_ arrived and I can’t Know anything about him, so he must be bad.”

Carlos frowned. This was it. He was going to die.

“How has it been wrong?!” Martin asked, “If anything, it’s been going great! You killed Not-Sasha, Helen seems to be helping us, and Annabelle hasn’t tried to call at all!”

Jon rolled his eyes, “You wouldn’t understand it, Martin. I Know things were supposed to be different. This...this isn’t how it was supposed to happen.”

“How was it supposed to happen then?” Martin asked.

Jon opened his mouth, then closed it. He was speechless. He didn’t _know_. Maybe Carlos wasn't going to die.

“It’s been going better than we expected.” Martin said, “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Jon reluctantly nodded, “Yes.”

“And Carlos hasn’t tried to hurt us or change our plans. That’s good too, right?”

“Yes.”

“So Carlos is good?”

Jon glanced at Carlos, and Carlos stared back at him. He looked away, back to Martin, and nodded, “Yes.”

“Cool.” Martin said, letting out a sigh, “We should rest up for a bit. How long until the next domain?”

“A while,” Jon answered.

“Great!” Martin set his bags down, and Jon did the same. Jon was hesitant, clearly wanting to speak to Martin without Carlos there. Martin was on edge, wanting everyone to get along and to be happy. Carlos was in the middle, waiting for something to happen. Something bad.

“I’m…” Carlos looked out at the cloudy sky and saw no eyes. That was a good sign.

“I’ll be right back.”

Carlos walked away from Martin and Jon, not wanting to be around them any longer. He had, for the most part, finally reached his limit. Being here was stressful and Carlos needed to be alone for a bit to think about what to do next.

He found a tree in the distance, not too far from Jon. He could see them, smudgy shapes from far off, standing around. He looked away from them and sighed. He was going to try and relax.

* * *

Martin didn’t know what to do. He liked Carlos, he appreciated his inside and his wisdom from living in Night Vale. He loved Jon, for obvious reasons, and he didn’t want Jon to be upset. Yet he was standing in the middle, watching as Jon got angry at Carlos, and watching as Carlos pushed away from that.

Martin wanted them to be friends. It was a childlike wish, Martin knew that, but it didn’t stop him from trying to make it happen. Starting with Jon.

“Jon, what’s going on?” He asked.

“We just agreed that Carlos was good,” Jon grumbled.

“I meant...what’s going on with you? Right now. How are you feeling?”

Jon sighed, “Hurt? A little bit hurt. I’m upset that you didn’t take my side.”

Martin stared at Jon with a wary look.

“I know, I know. You wouldn’t have taken my side on something like that. I just...I Know things are supposed to be different. Every word I say I feel like I’m not supposed to say it, because I’m supposed to say something else. But I don’t _know_ what I’m supposed to say!”

Martin reached for Jon’s hand, “Maybe you’re right about Carlos causing this. Maybe his arrival changed the course of history. But I don’t think that’s his fault, and I don’t think that you should get mad at him.”

Jon smiled and tightened his grip on Martin’s hand, “I love you, Martin.”

Martin flushed, “I love you too, Jon.”

They hug, and Martin leaves to talk to Carlos. He was off in the distance, sitting under a tree and closing his eyes. He looked peaceful. He looked beautiful. Martin stepped on a twig, and Carlos opened his eyes suddenly.

“Martin.” He said, “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Martin said, “May I sit down?”

Carlos looked at the spot beside him and nodded. Martin smiled and sat down.

“If you’re going to talk about before,” Carlos said, “Please don’t. I don’t want to think about it.”

Martin nodded, “Alright, I won’t. What do you want to talk about?”

Carlos shrugged.

“Okay, well...what’s your son like?”

Carlos smiled a tiny smile, “Amazing.”

Martin chuckled, “Of course. But how old is he? What’s his name? Can he speak yet?”

“He’s eighteen months old. His name is Esteban. And yes, he _can_ speak.” Carlos’s smile grew as he seemingly remembered his child. Martin couldn’t help but smile with him.

Then Carlos stopped smiling and pulled away. The air seemed much colder now, and Martin’s smile fell from his face.

“Carlos?”

“I’ve done the math, and the probability of me getting back home is...well, it’s low.” Carlos looked over to Jon, “Not just because of him, although he exacerbates it.”

“You aren’t going to die!” Martin insisted.

“Are you sure?” Carlos asked, “I’ve run these scenarios over and over in my head, and...If some held a gun or a knife to Jon and me and asked you who you would save, you’d pick Jon.”

Martin frowned, “That’s-”

“You’re right to.” Carlos said, “If I had to pick between you and Cecil, I would pick Cecil.” Carlos turned back to Martin, “I’m not asking for pity, I’m not asking you to change your mind, and I’m not asking you to fix anything. I’m...I just need to know that when I die, you’ll find Cecil.”

Martin shook his head, “You aren’t going to die. Jon won’t let you.”

Carlos smiled sadly, “Are you sure about that, Martin?”

Martin was sure. Martin talked to Jon, and he explained to him that Carlos was good, that he wasn’t brought on to go against their goal. But Carlos looked sure, too. Martin thought back to Annabelle, who had stopped trying to call him. Maybe Carlos had something to do with that. Maybe Carlos was a better target than Martin.

“He won’t.” Martin said, “I asked him not to.”

Carlos didn’t respond. He sat still and stared out at the barren land, looking out at the grey clouds that hid the eyes in the sky.

“It’s much warmer in the desert.” Carlos whispered, “I hated the heat during my first year in Night Vale. It was too hot and I could barely think because I hated the feeling of sweat and dampness. But, then I almost died. For the first time since I had come to Night Vale, I was cold, and I desperately wanted the warmth back. I wanted to feel sweaty and I wanted to be distracted because all I could focus on was my blood leaving my body. It feels like that again. I’m worried and I’m scared. Helen said I couldn’t get back without her. What if she never takes me back? What if I’m stuck here forever, without Esteban and without Cecil. I don’t want that. I never _wanted_ to be apart from them.”

“Then why did you leave?” Martin asked.

“Because I’m a scientist, and scientists are supposed to save the world.”

Despite all of Carlos’s comparisons of Cecil to Jon, Martin thought that Carlos was more like Jon. They had both left their safe space to save the world and felt guilt. Jon because he had started it, and Carlos because he was leaving to fix it. Jon had mentioned something once about this ending all in tragedy, and while Martin didn’t believe him, it was clear to see why Carlos and Jon thought so.

_Maybe it does end badly_ , Martin thought, _Maybe we all die or we all fail and the world is stuck like this. But we’re trying to fix it, and I think that is what matters._

“I think you’re going to return home.” Martin said, “You just...you have to believe it. Even if you think it’s not true.”

“Good advice.” Carlos mumbled, “Thank you, Martin, for speaking with me. I believe you talked me down from a meltdown.”

Martin flushed, “Really? I helped?”

“Yes.” Carlos stood up, “I’m ready now. We should continue.”

Martin nodded and pulled himself up, “Right.”

They walked away from the tree in comfortable silence. For the most part, Martin was proud that he had been able to help someone. Later, Martin lent Carlos one of his jackets, to help him feel warmer. Not quite the desert, but close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A smaller chapter because I won't be uploading for a bit. Nothing seriously long, though, just for about four days. As you can probably tell, though, I've been in a bit of a depression rut so I've got my feelings out through this. I hope you like it. :)


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I go in here, will my chances of finding Carlos rise?”
> 
> Yes.
> 
> See, all Cecil had to do was phrase it differently.

Cecil had been travelling for three days until he reached the panopticon. His car had done surprisingly well and the ocean was no problem. It was no problem. The entirety of the UK was empty. All of the people that lived there were either dead or...just gone. A lot of people that had, at one point, existed were no more. Their memory and their legacy was erased. It was a death much worse than actual death, and Cecil mourned them before continuing.

It was tall, the panopticon. It was large and powerful, and Cecil was hesitant to go in. But this was Cecil’s only lead to Carlos, and he had to find him.

“Is Carlos in here?” Cecil asked, outloud.

Once again, the yellow door emoji showed up. Cecil sighed, “Could I find him if I go in here?”

_ Perhaps. _

“Stop being like that.” Cecil walked up to the door, a small door that was barely visible. There was a bloodied hand on the door and small scratches. Some had tried to fight their way in. That someone had failed.

“If I go in here, will my chances of finding Carlos rise?”

_ Yes. _

See, all Cecil had to do was phrase it differently.

He put his hand on the door and it opened for him. The dust around the door exploded, and somehow avoided Cecil as it spread around him. Then it settled, and Cecil peered down a long, dark hallway. 

The hallway seemed...otherworldly. Cecil Knew that if he stepped through the frame of the secret door, he wouldn’t be in his own dimension. There would be no turning back, not unless he found Carlos.

He took a deep breath, and stepped into the dark hallway. He walked down it and the door closed behind him, wrapping him in darkness. Luckily, Cecil didn’t need a light source to see. He walked to the end of the hallway, and found a staircase.

“Oh god.” Cecil mumbled, “Do I really have to walk  _ all the way _ up?!”

_ Yes. It’s a very long climb. It will take hours. _

“And do you know where Carlos is yet?”

It gave Cecil a specific set of instructions, which was to climb to the top of the tower, leave through another door, then walk in a certain direction until he happened upon Carlos.

Finally. Cecil knew where he was, and found that he was safe.

“Okay, here we go.” 

Cecil began his ascent up the large staircase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter for one sole reason: I needed to update. I know I said last time that I’d be gone for about four days but during those four days my computer all but exploded, which is why I’m updating on mobile. So I haven’t dropped this and I fully intend on finishing it, but I’ll have to maybe get a new computer or somehow fix my old one. Probably the first.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End was quiet. Carlos thought that...maybe it would be more loud. Maybe there would be crying or shouting. But no, it was quiet. It put Carlos on edge.

The End was quiet. Carlos thought that...maybe it would be more loud. Maybe there would be crying or shouting. But no, it was quiet. It put Carlos on edge.

The sky had only gotten more cloudy as they walked, almost becoming as dark as the night sky. Coupled with the deafening silence, it was a scary thing. Carlos realized that was the point, for domains to be scary. 

Martin was listening to music on an old MP3 player. Carlos could hear the faint and familiar sound of ABBA through his headphones. Carlos was almost upset at Martin for leaving him alone with Jon. Almost.

Carlos had to trust Jon. Martin said that Jon realized he was wrong, and after their talk, Jon apologized. So things should be good. But they weren’t. Carlos was hesitant to even start a simple conversation with Jon in fear of being discovered.

He gripped the pocket linings of the jacket Martin gave him harder, and fell in step with Jon. His loneliness was unbearable at this point, and he wanted to know that he was still there. So, he spoke.

“Hello, Jon.”

Jon stared at him like he had two heads, “...Hello, Carlos. Not to be rude but why are you talking to me?”

Carlos continued to stare at the ground, “I’m...I can’t stay in my mind any longer, if that makes sense.” Carlos was worried that Jon wouldn’t understand and think badly of him again, but Jon smirked knowingly.

“It makes sense.”

“Good.” Carlos said, “I have...a hard time speaking to people...sometimes.” Carlos was astutely aware of how chunky his sentence sounded.

“I do too.”

“Really? You actually seem to go on and on.” Carlos blurted. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to apologize, but Jon just chuckled.

“I suppose you’re right. I guess my real problem is making a positive connection.” Jon shook his head, “I wonder, is it better to have trouble speaking or to have trouble with tone?”

“I’m not sure.” Carlos said, “Cecil was more extroverted than I was. He never had a problem with speaking. He never had a problem with tone.” Carlos frowned, “I never really understood that. How people do things like that. It seems so easy for them, but…”

“It’s hard for you.” Jon finished, “Carlos, I’m sorry for behaving irrationally.”

Carlos frowned, “Well, thank you, but I don’t want a pity apology.”

Jon sucked in a breath and shook his head, “No, no. It’s not a pity apology. I’ve been meaning to do this for a while.”

Carlos, tired and cold, accepted this apology. Usually he’d want the person to put in a bit more effort, but he could tell that Jon was sincere. 

“Thank you.” Carlos said.

“Oh, did you two finally make up?” Martin asked, his voice light and happy.

Carlos and Jon rolled their eyes, and nodded. They mirrored each other in that moment, and neither of them noticed. Martin did, of course, but he didn’t mention it.

“Now that we’re all friends, don’t you think it’s time to stop now, Jon?” Martin asked.

Jon sighed and shrugged his bags off, “Right. We should stop here. And you should both take a break.”

“Will you be alright?” Martin asked, “This place is a bit... _much_. I don’t like it.”

Jon nodded, “Yes, that’s the point. I’ll be fine. Oliver Banks was never the type to, well, try and kill me.”

Martin frowned, “Right. And, we’re going to smite him, yes?”

Jon was silent.

“Jon?”

He still didn’t respond.

“Jon, I asked-”

“I know, Martin.” Jon sighed, “I’m...I’m not going to smite Oliver. He isn’t a _bad_ p-”

“He isn’t bad?” Martin asked, “He is literally the Avatar of the End.”

Carlos did not jump in to explain to Martin that every person would technically be a victim of the End, especially at the end of their life. Carlos kept his mouth shut, because he respected Martin and Jon enough not to intrude on their conversation.

“Well...he also woke me up, so...I’m not going to smite him.”

“ _Wow, what a hero._ ”

Jon chuckled, “Martin, are you _jealous_?”

“I’m not!” Martin yelled.

“He is.” Carlos chimed in, “His face is flushed, he is clenching his fists, and-” 

“God!” Martin threw up his hands, “You’re just as bad as Jon.”

“I’m not Knowing anything, it’s just science.” Carlos adjusted his glasses to emphasize his point, “Well, it’s actually more body language than science.”

It was an extremely humorous situation, despite their surroundings. Jon and Carlos continued to tease a flustered Martin, and it felt almost normal.

But soon the reality of the situation returned, and they all grew quiet.

“It’s time isn’t it?” Martin asked, “Time to vomit your horrors?”

Jon grimaced, “I’m not sure I like that metaphor.”

“Puke your terrors, then.” Martin chuckled to himself, “I’ll go. Come on, Carlos.”

Carlos nodded, and they walked away from Jon.

Oliver Banks gave another statement. It was a statement that had been planned out, every word chosen for an intended message and desire. It had been completed for a long time, and Oliver thought it perfect. So he didn’t change much, even when new information came into light.

_“You should at least address it.”_ Annabelle Cane said, over the phone. Oliver didn’t like to speak to any of the other Avatars, but Annabelle seemed to shove her way into things.

_“Surely you will, right?_ ” Annabelle asked.

Oliver Banks didn’t want to address it. It would ruin his perfect statement, his message to the Archivist. It could make the Archivist seek him out. It could make the Archivist’s ‘guest’ insist on the idea of smiting Oliver.

_“Helen is keeping this a secret from them. Don’t you want to help him? None of them know anything of it.”_

Annabelle couldn’t address it by name. To address it would surely bring Helen’s attention. Helen had a game to play. She had multiple hands to roll the dice, to pick up her cards, and move her pieces. It was Candyland to Helen.

If Oliver or Annabelle messed the game up, Helen would destroy the table. No, Oliver wouldn’t mention what the point of the game was. But he would mention the game itself. He would warn the Archivist of what Helen had in store.

Oliver Banks was never a scientist, but he knew what it was like to have many names. Sure, he had chosen those names and they weren’t ripped from him or distorted, but he understood. Oliver Banks knew that Martin Blackwood understood the importance of names. He was sixteen when he had chosen his real name. For Martin, his birth name was the distorted one. So he sought out to fix it, and fix it he did.

_“Do you understand, Jon?”_ Oliver asks, _“Do you understand what I’m trying to say? It’s very hard to communicate a point when you aren’t allowed to say what it is. I am not a scientist.”_

Oliver thinks that maybe the Archivist will understand. Oliver remembers that the Archivist can’t quite Know some things, and changes his mind. Maybe he won’t understand. He’d have to phrase it differently.

Almost every Avatar knows who Gertrude Robinson was. She was a bit of a legend in their world. Everyone knows who Michael was, too. Oliver had met him once, before he became an Avatar. Michael Shelly was his name.

_“Wasn’t it surprising that he had a name, back then? Everyone remembers Michael, Avatar of the Spiral. Not a lot of people remember Michael Shelly, though. It’s the same with Helen Richardson. You were there, Jon. You remember what happened with Helen Richardson.”_

Of course the Archivist remembers. He surely felt guilt about that event, along with the multitude of guilt he felt for all other events. Oliver remembered a certain phrase he had heard once. It was in a comedy show, the comedian surely quoting another person, but Oliver didn’t know who the comedian was quoting. He never bothered to look it up.

_Strange, the passage of time._

That couldn’t be more true. Time sure was a strange thing. 

_“Do you remember that statement about Night Vale? You were so quick to dismiss it. Surely a place like Night Vale was impossible. You made Martin look into it, but he never came back with concrete results. How do I know this? Well, Annabelle has been quite chatty lately. It’s hard to ignore her.”_

The statement was from some man from America. He said he was an intern from Night Vale Community Radio. He told you his story about how he had tried to convince his family that he was their son. He went back to his home in Michigan, and they were suddenly fine. He didn’t know what had happened. Weeks later, he couldn’t help but return to Night Vale, but not before going to the Magnus Institute to report his strange experience.

Then he returned to Night Vale. He returned to his internship. The Archivist insisted on that statement being fake, because Night Vale didn’t exist.

The Archivist was right...almost. Night Vale doesn’t exist on Earth. In fact, it doesn’t exist in the same universe. 

_“It used to.”_ Oliver says, _“It used to be a normal town, beloved by a very powerful God. She loved Night Vale, and when it was endangered, she did the only thing she could think of. She lifted it up and saved it. In turn, Night Vale changed. It became twisted, absolutely filled by all Fourteen Fears. In turn, it became its own plane of existence, cut off from the rest of the world. It became an infinite abyss of the horrors that resided in Night Vale. A repeat of Night Vale, over and over. Forever.”_

What would the Archivist do with this information? Oliver knew he was getting along with his traveling companion. ‘Surely he knows of this’, the Archivist will think to himself. But he doesn’t. No, the scientist does not know this.

The Archivist has many questions. Oliver Banks cannot answer all of them. The Archivist is suspicious again. 

_“Don’t be.”_

Helen is suddenly suspicious of Oliver now. What is he saying? What is he saying to the Archivist? He’s just telling him a story. But hasn’t he already told him one? This is lasting much longer than it should. It’s like over feeding a child. They’ll throw up. They’ll get sick.

_“I think he can handle it.”_

Jon is suddenly back into the present, sweating and breathing heavily. What...was that? The tape recorder was still buzzing beside him, waiting for Jon’s input.

“R-Report ends. Or, well, _reports_ end.” Jon took a deep breath and ran his hand through his greasy hair.

“Oliver was clearly trying to tell me something about Carlos. I admit, I am sometimes a bit _dense_ , but I got the implication loud and clear. Or, I think I did.”

Jon turned to look at the two distant figures of his boyfriend and his...friend. Yes, friend. Carlos was still his friend.

“Oliver said Carlos was unaware of this. I believe him. He was, however, making clear comparisons to Michael and Helen. For now, I’ll refrain from asking Helen about it. I knew I couldn’t trust her anyway. For the most part, our goal is the same. Get to the panopticon and return the world to normal. If-”

A loud boom swept across the land, causing forceful winds to follow it. Jon stood up suddenly, and turned to the panopticon. He squinted at it, and noticed the faint change of the eyes in the sky. They looked tired, and some of them even closed. In the distance, a very _far_ distance, Jon could feel the hint of a powerful Avatar.

“Well then.” Jon said, “That’s new.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still on mobile, but I thought I’d dump this heavy chapter on you. Let me know if this is dumb.  
> Also I’m still on mobile so if there is any spelling or grammar mistakes, I am very sorry. I don’t have grammarly to correct my bad spelling and word usage.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s...another Avatar.”
> 
> Martin frowned, “Like...here? In this domain?”
> 
> Jon shook his head, “No, we are far from them. But I can still feel them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: fights, eye gore, blood, Elias, talks of murder  
> (Also let me know at any point if I need to at a trigger warning, no matter how small)

Jon looked away from the panopticon to see Martin running towards him. Jon didn’t bother to click the tape recorder off, instead opting to run towards Martin.

“Jon!” Martin yelled, seconds before they collided. Martin was hugging him tightly. It clicked in Jon’s brain that Martin was worried.

“I’m fine.” Jon said, “That wasn’t me, a-Martin, you’re bleeding!” Jon pulled his sweater sleeve over his hand to wipe away the blood dripping from Martin’s ears.

“Are you okay?” Martin asked.

“I’m fine, Martin. How...it wasn’t  _ that  _ loud, I don’t understand.”

“It was for us.” Martin said, and Jon remembered Carlos again.

“Where’s Carlos? He should stay close to us.” Jon stood on the tips of his toes to peer over Martin’s shoulder.

“We should give him a minute. We can see out for miles, I’m sure we’d notice if someone came anywhere near him.”

They hugged more for a moment, before Martin asked another question.

“What do you think that was, then?”

To be honest, Jon didn’t know. It had something to do with the Avatar Jon could feel. It was far away, which was both a good sign and a bad one.

“There’s...another Avatar.”

Martin frowned, “Like...here? In this domain?”

Jon shook his head, “No, we are far from them. But I can still feel them.”

“That far away?” Martin asked, “Do you think they had something to do with this?”

Jon nodded, “I do.”

Off in the distance, Carlos was standing up and wiping blood from his nose and ears. Jon Knew that Carlos had waited too long, and some of the blood had hardened. He would have to wash his face very soon.

“Martin,” Jon started, “Oliver Banks told me something about Carlos and Night Vale that I think you should know.”

“...What is it?”

Jon looked up at him and sighed, “Well…” He stopped, trying to think of ways to phrase what he meant. Then he gave up, and pulled out a tape recorder.

“It’s all on here. You’ll have to skip some, but...it’s all explained here.”

Martin took the tape, and pressed play.

* * *

Cecil got to the top of the tower hours after he began climbing. His resentment for whoever had built the tower was at its highest levels, and it fueled Cecil to press on.

The relief Cecil felt when he got to the top of the tower was astronomical. He could feel a cool draft, and he could finally rest without the dread of having to continue climbing weighing down on him. Once he was well rested, he opened the final door…

Into a large jail room. Cecil shrugged, because he knew it would be something like that. But he hadn’t expected it to be empty. For the most part, he hoped that it was an interdimensional prison for alien warlords. It wasn’t.

“Hello!” Cecil yelled, his voice ringing out, “I’m addressing the so-called ‘King of a Ruined World’! Could you, maybe, come out?”

Cecil searched the large area, scanning all of the cells. His eyes finally landed on a lavish throne that had no business being in a prison. To Cecil, it seemed egotistical. Whoever sat in this chair must have been an ass.

“Well, well, well. It seems that someone must have gotten in.”

Cecil glanced at a strange man standing a few feet away from him, wearing a suit of all things. He was flooded with a strong feeling of hate. Hate from the entire world around them. This world that Cecil found himself in, this strange hellscape, absolutely hated this man.

_ “Jonah Magnus.”  _ Cecil whispered. The bars of the cells began to hum.

“I go by Elias these days.” The man smirked, “What’s your name, young man?”

Cecil scoffed, “I’m hardly young. In fact, I’m sure I’m older than you.”

“Fine then,  _ senior citizen.  _ What is your name?”

Cecil desperately wanted to punch him. That might have been the fear he was feeding off of, or the man himself, but Cecil could vividly see his fists connecting with Elias’s jaw. Cecil could see the things the man did, the people he hurt and killed in his long,  _ long  _ lifetime.

_ “What is your name?”  _ The man asked again, his voice drenched in compulsion.

“That won’t work on me.” Cecil said, stepping forward, “I ought to throw you out of this tower right now. After what you’ve done to your community, to your country, to your  _ world _ .  _ Tsk,  _ you oughta know better. After all, a town is as good as the people in it, and when there’s a hellish vortex flower, you nip it in the bud.”

Elias mouthed ‘hellish vortex flower’, momentarily forgetting his nearby enemy and allowing Cecil to grab a chair and slam it over Elias’s head.

Elias let out a grunt, and rolled away from Cecil. He called upon his beholding powers, preparing to smite Cecil, and Cecil did the same. The only difference was that Cecil was standing over him and definitely not concussed.

“You’re not going to kill me.” Elias whispered, “ _ You can’t kill me.  _ People don’t die anymore.  _ I can’t die anymore. _ ”

Cecil shrugged, “Still, this is going to hurt  _ a lot _ .”

Elias groaned out of annoyance and closed his eyes.

_ “Look, oh Great Beholder. Look upon a man who wrought misery and horror upon his world. Look, and decide,”  _ Cecil paused for dramatic effect,  _ “If he is fit to rule. Welcome, to Night Vale.” _

Static’s swarmed the room and filled it with a bright light. Cecil covered his face and tried to shield himself from the static and light, but ultimately failed. It flooded his own vision, and the static snapped suddenly, like a rubber band.

When the light faded, Cecil felt warm liquid rush from his eyes. He reached up to touch it, and pulled back as his face stinged at his own touch. His fingertips were red with his own blood. Well, at least he could still see.

Cecil turned to Elias, and found a horrifying sight. Elias lay on the ground, still alive, and missing his eyes. They looked as if they had been gouged out, but the eyes themselves were nowhere to be found.

Well, at least Cecil took care of him.

* * *

Martin stopped the tape and let out a long sigh, “Well...what do we do?”

Jon shrugged, “I honestly don’t know. It wouldn’t be safe to mention this to Helen or...or even Carlos. Who knows what that could trigger in him.”

“Well, what are your theories, then?” Martin asked, “Maybe...maybe Carlos is an Avatar of the Spiral.”

Jon shook his head, “No, we would know if he was. I mean, look at him. He doesn’t exactly have that whole spiral look to him, does he?”

“No, he doesn’t. But maybe…” Martin couldn’t finish his sentence, because Carlos suddenly approached them out of nowhere.

“Is he alright?” He asked Martin.

“Yes, the sound didn’t seem to affect him. Just us, it seems.” Martin put the tape recorder in his bag, and turned to Jon.

“Do you know what caused it?” Carlos asked.

“Elias, probably.” 

They all grimaced at the thought of him. Jon didn’t know what Elias was doing. What else could he have been doing? He already ended the world. What else was there left to do?

There was a knock from behind Jon. He didn’t have to turn around to know that it was a door. Instead, he just sighed.

_ “Hello!”  _ Helen cooed, “I’m so glad your human ear drums survived the blast!”

Jon turned around, “What happened?”

Helen shrugged, “Who knows, Archivist. Perhaps someone...beat you to it. I certainly hope they did. It would have taken ages for you to make any progress any time soon.” Helen walked over to Carlos and plucked a single hair from his head.

“Drop it, Helen!” Jon commanded.

Helen threw her hands up in surrender, “But why, Dear Archivist? It’s just a single hair from your  _ guest _ .” She smirked at Carlos, and Carlos rolled his eyes.

Helen pouted, and crossed her arms, “Hurtful. Well, I’m not here to just steal a strand of hair. I’m here to ask after my good friend, Oliver Banks.”

Jon clenched his fists, “What about him?”

“Don’t be so coy, Archivist! We all know what you’re talking about. Well, Carlos doesn’t know, but you already know that and the only reason  _ I’m  _ mentioning it is to let him know that something hinky is going on!”

Martin let out a chuckle, and Jon glared at him for a split second, before returning his gaze to Helen.

“I’d rather be kept in the dark about his statements.” Carlos said, rebutting Helen, “If they were of importance, Jon would tell me.”

Helen gasped, “Such devotion from The Scientist! Quite a turn of events! Well, I usually live to cause unnecessary doubt, but for your own good, Scientist, I’d suggest you ask about Oliver Banks’s second statement.”

She waltzed back to her door, “I’m off! See you all next time!” She hopped in, and closed it.

Martin let out a sigh of relief, “Well, at least that is over.”

* * *

Helen opened her door into the panopticon, right in front of the unconscious body of Elias Bouchard. She glanced down at him and scowled for the first time in a long time. She took a step out of her door and heard a sickening squelch.

She lifted up her foot, and saw that she had stepped in a pool of blood. She furrowed her eyebrows in anger, and resisted the urge to kick the broken man on the floor for ruining her heels.

“You have a yellow door.”

Helen turned to see a man wearing a wonderfully ridiculous outfit. Her scowl immediately disappeared.

“I do!” She exclaimed, “So you’re the big bad who defeated Mr. Douchard here!”

“Douchard?” The man asked.

“Good riddance, I say.” Helen put her shoe on the fabric of Elias’s suit and wiped the blood off of it, “Nasty man. You were very smart not to kill him, though. No, Jonah Magnus will live another day, faced with his failure of a plan and his new successor.” Helen extended her arms out and whooped.

“What’s your name?” The man asked.

“Helen.” Helen answered, “Or, rather, The Distortion. What’s your name?”

“Cecil Palmer.”

Helen gasped, “The Voice of Night Vale, as I live and breathe. Well, I don’t live or breathe, but you get my point. Such an honor to meet you!” Helen bowed before offering her large hand for Cecil to shake.

“Likewise.” Cecil said, taking her hand.

“Wow, picture this.” Helen remarked, “Lil’ ol’ me, shaking hands with The Voice. You’re a bit of a legend within the Avatar circles I frequent. The strongest known Avatar of the Eye. You yourself had direct contact with Huntokar  _ and  _ The Eye itself. But I’m just reliving your greatest moments. Tell me, Cecil, why are you here?”

“To find my husband.” Cecil responded, curtly. Helen didn’t notice.

“Your husband, you say?” Helen pulled out the strand of hair she stole from Carlos, “This wouldn’t be  _ his  _ hair, would it?”

Cecil stared at Helen’s hand with such an intensity that it began to burn, “Where did you get that?”

“From his head, of course! Don’t worry, he is as safe as he could be, traveling with the Archivist. Well, some might call that  _ dangerous _ , as the Archivist has been known to start the end of this world and kill other Avatars. But as the Scientist always says, ‘A scientist is always safe’.”

“How do you-”

“Know about that?” Helen interrupted, “From my predecessor, Michael. Ritual gone wrong, I suppose. Gertrude Robinson didn’t even have to muck anything up. Just doomed to failure. So Michael took his failed ritual and put him...somewhere else. You know the rest.”

Cecil’s gaze relented, and Helen handed Cecil the hair.

“If I were to go get my husband now, what would the Archivist do?” Cecil asked.

“He would probably smite you. He’d go  _ ‘Ceaseless Watcher, turn your Gays upon this wretched thing’ _ or whatever inane dribble he came up with. No, I’d just let him come to you. Then you can kill him and take your husband back home.”

“Kill him?” Cecil asked, “Why would I want to kill him?”

Helen chuckled and sat down on a chair that couldn’t be seen or felt, “Because he is coming to kill you, and the Archivist won’t give up this fight.”

“Why would he want to kill me?” Cecil asked, “I’ve done absolutely nothing to him.”

Helen nodded, “No, not to him. But, well, you have  _ usurped  _ Elias, and now the only way to save this world is to kill you, according to the Archivist.”

Cecil didn’t respond. Helen didn’t have to look at him to know that he was surprised to the point that he became almost frozen. Helen felt immense satisfaction while she was waiting for Cecil to speak again. It was all so amusing.

“Is there any way to save this world?”

“Who knows.” Helen smirked at him.

“But…” Cecil slumped into the throne that Elias had. It was a beautiful sight. The unwilling King, no,  _ Voice  _ of a Ruined World. The light from the glowing sky hit him just so, and if Helen could paint this sight, she would. Unfortunately her large hands prohibited her from doing that.

“As of right now,” Helen said, “The Archivist doesn’t know that Elias has been neutralized. I’d use that to your advantage. Most of the Avatars will follow your orders if you asked. Perhaps you could deliver a message to your husband, before you have to kill the Archivist.”

Cecil didn’t respond. 

Helen stood up and stared down at Elias’s body. If it were up to her, she’d get Annabelle to string him up like a puppet. But it wasn’t. She walked past him.

“I’ll be seeing you!” She closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, sorry?  
> Also, I can’t believe I’m plugging my tumblr, but if you want to come yell at me, my @ is bugsarecool (and if I’m super lonely and just want to make friends, who’s to say I can’t)


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fine.” Carlos said, once he was finished, “The sky is different.”
> 
> Jon looked up at it and frowned, “Elias...something must have happened. Maybe he found himself a new body.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: mentions of MAG169 (I think that’s it. Please tell me if I need to add anything.)

Carlos couldn’t tell you when the burning buildings and the fire ended and cool air and grass began. The entirety of that domain played out like one long panic attack. Truth be told, Carlos had never really liked fire or landlords to begin with.

When the smoke was gone and the tears had dried, Carlos found himself staring up that the sky. He noticed the difference in color. Green had been a major undertone to all clouds and even the sun itself, but now...it was a faint purple. The eyes in the sky were now open again, and they were all staring down at the three of them, watching.

“What…” Carlos said, before erupting into a coughing fit. Jon hovered over him like a worried mother, and Carlos didn’t bother to comment on that.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked, softly.

“Fine.” Carlos said, once he was finished, “The sky is different.”

Jon looked up at it and frowned, “Elias...something must have happened. Maybe he found himself a new body.”

Carlos didn’t like the sound of that. He pulled out his phone, and turned it on. He waited for a minute before it presented his home screen. There were no new messages. Carlos turned it off again.

“Are you sure?” Martin asked, “If he changed bodies, it would have stayed the same. Maybe...maybe something happened.” Martin glanced over to Carlos. Carlos met his eyes and frowned.

Maybe...maybe Helen was right. No, Carlos stopped that thought right there. Helen was just messing with him, and he needed to trust his friends. Carlos let it go.

“I think I would Know.” Jon said.

“You didn’t Know about Carlos, Jon.” Martin reminded him.

Carlos didn’t want to hear them fight, especially not now. He closed his eyes and tried to think of something that would diffuse the situation.

“Jon,” Carlos said, “Maybe try asking vague questions about Elias. Like where he is, and what he’s wearing.”

Jon hummed in response, “He’s in the panopticon. He’s wearing a green suit.”

Martin scoffed, “Of course he is.”

“Is there anyone else with him?” Carlos asked. Jon nodded, “Yes.”

“Who are they.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but paused. He closed it, then spoke, “I don’t Know.”

“Wow,” Martin said, “That was very helpful!”

“Well, I am a scientist.” Carlos remarked.

“The Scientist.” Jon corrected, before glaring back up at the sky, “Which reminds me. Carlos, how much do you remember about your time before Night Vale?”

“Before Night Vale.” Carlos repeated. He remembered his conversation with Annabelle Cane, and he began to tense up. He should tell them. He knows now that Jon wouldn’t hurt him.

“I…” Carlos let out a shaky sigh, “I don’t remember things from before Night Vale. Before I got here, I just...fabricated my family and my school and my _life_.” Carlos shivered, “To be honest, I thought Jon would...would smite me if he found out, or something.”

It was silent. Both Martin and Jon were surprised to hear that.

“I don’t anymore.” Carlos said, “Obviously. I trust you enough to tell you this.” Carlos sat up, ignoring the headache and the flip of his stomach, “I don’t want to play into whatever Helen has got planned.”

“Is that why you were scared?” Martin asked, suddenly, “Of Jon, I mean. Back when things were…”

Carlos nodded, “Yes.”

Jon began to rub at his hands, his knuckles cracking at the pressure. Carlos and Martin cringed when they heard it, trying their best to hide it. Jon didn’t notice.

“Thank you for telling us.” Jon said, “I suppose we should share some truths with you, as well.”

Ah, so Helen was right. They did have something to tell him.

“Oliver Banks told me something about Night Vale, and about you. I suppose I should ask if you know Night Vale doesn’t exist in this world.”

Carlos frowned, “It...doesn’t?”

Jon shook his head, “No, a god of some sorts supposedly ‘picked Night Vale up’ and caused it to be...not of this world.”

Huh. Carlos remembered that Cecil had given many reports like that. But he had just assumed it was a misconstrued fact, like the law about writing utensils or computers. Which meant that Huntokar was real. Surprising.

“That would be Huntokar. She’s...basically a part of the religion in Night Vale. People use Bloodstones and pray to Huntokar, although they don’t actually know it’s her they’re praying to. According to her, she was born in a...mudwomb where all other gods were born? I’m not entirely sure what she was talking about.”

Jon grit his teeth, “Right. We can assume that’s where all our little _fear gods_ reside then.”

Jon picked up a stick and began to make a chart in the dirt. Martin and Carlos watched as he did so.

“So, from my understanding, this is our world.” Jon drew a circle and two stick figures holding hands on the top of it.

Martin smiled, “Jon, is that us?”

Jon blushed, “Of course it is, Martin! They’re holding hands!”

“You’re a sap, you know that?” Martin asked. Jon rolled his eyes and continued to draw.

He drew a straight line, and drew another stick figure with wavy hair and glasses. Carlos frowned.

“That cannot be me.”

“Well, it is.” Jon said, before drawing another, taller stick figure pushing up at the line.

“And...Huntokar.”

“Draw a deer head, she doesn’t have a human face, I don’t think.” Carlos told him. Jon complied, before he drew another circle labeled ‘MUDWOMB’ in all capitals. Off in the distance, there was a small knock.

“So, just to make sure we’re all on the same page, this is our world, the one we’re in now. According to Carlos, Oliver Banks, and Huntokar, Night Vale was once a part of this world, until Huntokar,” Jon pointed towards the Huntokar stick figure, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Huntokar yeeted it.” Martin mumbled. Carlos and Jon stared at him, both very much confused.

Martin chuckled, “That’s just something Tim used to say. You know, before…”

Carlos didn’t know who Tim was, but judging by the reminiscing looks on his friends faces, he must have been an old friend.

“Well, yes, Huntokar _yeeted_ Night Vale, closer to the mudwomb, otherwise known as the dimension where all fifteen fears reside. Or, resided.”

“Is that all that Oliver Banks told you?” Carlos asked.

Jon shook his head, “No, he explained you.”

“Me.” Carlos repeated, “So _he_ knows about my life before Night Vale? Did he...mention my parents or anything? I...I think I have a brother.”

“He didn’t mention your family. He made some pretty, erm, strong comparisons to Helen and Michael, though. I think, in some way, you have something to do with the Distortion.”

For a split second, Carlos saw a flash of memories, of insane spirals and the yellow door. Then they disappeared again. Carlos didn’t know why his heart was beating so fast or why his splitting headache had come back.

“I...sorry, something…” Carlos closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Yeah, you may be right.”

“Carlos, are you-”

“Fine!” Carlos said, a bit too loud, “Just...headache. It’s fine.”

“Is it?”

They all turned around to see Helen standing above them in all of her spiral glory. She was long, very curly, and bright. Carlos hissed in pain, and shielded his eyes.

“Oh! Look, the Scientist! He can _See_ me!”

Martin frowned, “We can all see you, Helen. You aren’t sneaky.”

Helen shook her head, “No, he can _See_ me. Capital S. Now you won’t feel so alone, Archivist! Shame about you, Martin, I really am beautiful in my true form.”

Martin turned to Jon, “Wait, have I been seeing something different this entire time?”

Jon nodded, “Yes, but trust me, it’s better than the alternative.”

Helen shook violently and a grating sound was released from her abstract mouth. Carlos winced.

“You must be wondering why I’m here. After all, I’ve been badgering you more than I should have, but based on the circumstances, I think it’s acceptable. Have you _seen_ the sky lately?!”

Jon nodded, “We have. Do you have anything to do with it?”

Helen smiled innocently, “Hmm, perhaps!”

_“Helen.”_

Helen scoffed, and it sounded strangely...goopy.

“Oh fine, Archivist, just don’t use that tone of voice on me. Something happened to Elias.”

Jon nodded, “Yes, I know. There’s someone in the panopticon with him. Carlos helped us figure that out.”

“Smart Scientist.” Helen remarked, “Really living up to his title.”

Helen laughed out loud, and Carlos covered his ears.

“Anyway, I went to the panopticon just because I could. Decided to have a little pop in to annoy Elias some, and I found the strangest thing. Elias was laying on the floor...with his eyes ripped out!” Helen burst out laughing, and both Jon and Martin covered their ears. It must have been absolutely grating.

“Ripped out?” Jon asked, “He should be dead, then.”

Helen shook her head, “He isn’t! Honestly, Archivist, I thought you’d be happy. Someone usurped Elias! That’s what you wanted, right?”

“Why are things still the same, then?!” Jon yelled, “I thought...why isn’t the world back to normal? What do we have to do?”

Helen shrugged, “I dunno. Might have to kill them. Maybe things will be different with you in charge.” She smirked.

Jon shook his head, “Yeah, I’m not entirely _keen_ on killing someone who might not deserve it.”

Helen sighed, “Shame. Then I guess your end goal is still the same. Get to the panopticon and figure out things from there?”

Jon nodded.

“Well...I’d listen to the radio if I were you. Might find something useful.” Helen began to walk away.

“Wait!” Carlos yelled, “How do you...how do you know me?”

Helen stopped, and sighed, “I know you from Michael.”

“Michael brought me to Night Vale. Why?” Carlos pressed.

Helen turned around swiftly, and put her hands on her hips. Or rather, they thought she did.

_Incomprehensible,_ Carlos thought, _I am met with a terrible fate._ Of course his brain would remember a meme during this time.

“Carlos, I’m going to be real with you here, which is a lot more than I usually offer. Do you remember your family?”

Carlos shook his head.

“Do you remember your job?”

Carlos shook his head again.

“Do you remember anything from your old life?”

Carlos shook his head a final time.

“Good. Carlos, you are a brave person. You’ve got a family in Night Vale, and you’ve got confidence and understanding in the universe. You don’t remember the pain your old life brought you. I want to keep it that way.”

“That isn’t fair.” Carlos said, “I want to remember what happened.”

She knelt down in front of him, much like how a big sister would kneel down in front of her little brother.

“I know it’s not fair, and I’m sorry. But you cannot know right now. You might not be able to know, ever. There are risks of knowing what happened. It would change you, Carlos. You wouldn’t be _you_.”

She stood up, “Maybe...maybe one day, though. You can hope for that if you wish. Toodles.”

Her goodbye was not as cheerful as her previous ones, and Carlos knew that. She walked back into her hallways and the door popped away, out of sight.

Carlos sighed, and Martin stepped up behind him.

“It’s all right.” Martin said, “Maybe we’ll find out later. We can look for you.”

Carlos nodded, “That would be great, thank you.” Martin walked back to Jon, and Carlos continued to stare wistfully where the yellow door had once been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MAG169 basically happens exactly the same, except Carlos is there, freaking out. Also...backstory content for Carlos 😳 (blush emoji)...it’s going to be a separate work because I don’t want to mess with my epic chapter flow.  
> (Still on mobile, by the way. I know I’m churning out chapters, but most of this was already written before my computer got game ended)


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gave Martin and Carlos a lecture about the lonely. He told them that they had to stick together. Jon had been holding Martin’s hand when he disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: the lonely, Elias doing what Elias does, everything that involves pushing knowledge into ones brain (I have no idea how to tag that), and crying  
> (Don’t hesitate to tell me if I need to add anything)

Jon was freaking out. He was running around, yelling for Martin in the house. Carlos couldn’t blame him, but it was making him very nervous. They ran around the large house, usually in a straight line, and sometimes passing other people. Jon barely paid them any mind as he ran past them, and the people hardly noticed Jon either. Carlos felt bad for them. Even traveling through the lonely was hard, Carlos couldn’t imagine what it would be like alone.

Or, well, he could. Seeing as Jon was nowhere to be heard or seen. Carlos stopped running, and stood in the middle of the room. Jon must have taken a turn somewhere.

Jon gave Martin and Carlos a lecture about the lonely. He told them that they had to stick together. Jon had been holding Martin’s hand when he disappeared. 

He also told them not to sit in the chairs. He told them not to stop, period. Just continue until you somehow find your way back to people or out of the domain itself. Most importantly: don’t think.

Carlos could do that. He continued walking in a straight line, trying hard not to think. Admittedly, it was difficult. Carlos’s brain was made to question everything.

So when the fog started to follow him instead of spread out around him, Carlos knew he had to either stop thinking, or think something so bizarre and unwarranted that it would distract him from how alone he was.

So Carlos thought of paradoxes. His most favorite example was a rather simple one. _This sentence is false._ Carlos chuckled to himself as he remembered that. How could the sentence be false? How could the sentence be true? God, Carlos loves paradoxes.

For a second, the fog had receded, leaving Carlos to walk around while he thought about paradoxes. Unfortunately, as soon as he noticed the absence of the fog, it returned, much stronger than before.

Carlos didn’t want it to touch him. He knew he was a bit, well, _fragile_ at the moment. So he hopped up on a chair, making sure he was standing on it, instead of sitting. 

Luckily, that seemed to do the trick. The fog stayed on the floor and Carlos stayed on the chair.

“Chwater.” Carlos mumbled to himself, vaguely remembering a meme that Cecil had sent him. _Cecil._

Carlos frowned as he thought of Cecil, knowing that Jon _told_ him not to do that. He couldn’t help himself, though. He missed Cecil, _and_ Esteban. He wanted to get this over with and go home.

“You can’t,” Carlos mumbled to himself, squatting down to stare at the fog, “Not yet.”

The fog rose slightly, but Carlos didn’t move. His legs were tired from running and he was suddenly very sleepy. All of that traveling must have caught up with him. 

He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, careful not to fall asleep or slip out of the chair.

_“-vist is still running through the halls. He can’t find him. He’s yelling and shouting. ‘Martin’, he shouts, ‘Martin, where are you?’ But Martin doesn’t respond because Martin can’t_ hear _him.”_

Carlos opened his eyes. That was Cecil’s Voice! He could recognize that voice anywhere! Carlos jumped out of the chair and ran into the next room, looking around for a radio.

There, on a desk, sat the radio. Cecil was still reporting, mostly about Jon and his search for Martin. Carlos ran towards it and picked it up, examining it. It was a wireless radio, which meant that Carlos could take it with him. He flipped it around, and saw a post-it note.

_For you, Scientist. -A.C_

Carlos tore it off and stuck the note into his pocket. He turned it back around and listened to Cecil drone on about the other people in the house. How was he Knowing this? He was in a different world! Unless...unless he wasn’t.

“Cecil.” Carlos said, “Cecil, can you hear me?”

_“She has been-Carlos?”_

“Cecil! Where are you? Why aren’t you in Night Vale?”

_“I came to get you, and I got...sidetracked. Anyway, are you safe? With the Archivist, I mean. Are you hurt?”_

“A bit. There was a loud explosion or something and I’ve been having nosebleeds ever since, but are _you_ safe? Where are you?”

_“I...No, Carlos, you’re not safe there. Please, hold on, the Archivist is coming. I love you.”_

“I love you too, but Cecil, where-”

Static erupted from the radio, and Carlos quickly turned it off. He looked down at the floor, and the fog had completely disappeared. Carlos knew that Cecil had something to do with it, but he didn’t stick around to figure it out.

He began to walk in the opposite direction he had been running. Jon had taken a turn somewhere, which meant that Jon would surely find his way back to the main path. With the portable radio in hand, the fog was nonexistent. Carlos felt a sense of relief with it. _‘As long as you hold this, you’re not alone.’_

* * *

Cecil turned his mic off, and sighed. Carlos was safe. Surely when he broadcasted again, Carlos would know, which meant that he’d try to speak with Cecil again. Cecil wanted that. He wanted to speak with his husband for forever at this point. But he couldn’t, because he didn’t know what the Archivist was like or what he would do.

Cecil was stuck here. He wanted to get Carlos and _leave_. He didn’t care if this world was stuck like this forever, because he wanted to go back home!

Cecil leaned back against the throne, his head hitting softly against it. Right. Apparently, Cecil had to fix this. He had to return it to normal. But how? Cecil’s normal wasn’t _their_ normal. It was more like Carlos’s normal, but if Cecil asked Carlos what life was like, Carlos would realize that he truly didn’t know. Cecil just didn’t want him to suffer anymore.

“I may be powerless, but I can _literally_ hear you thinking from there.” A voice croaked. Cecil frowned. Elias.

“Great.” Cecil said, fully sarcastic. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “What are you doing to do? Help me?” Cecil scoffed.

“Sure.” Elias mumbled, “How about you jump out of the window! Please, jump _out_ of the window.”

“Glass is too thick.” Cecil said, “You sealed this place up to protect yourself from the horrors outside. Ironic, isn’t it? _Your preparation for this had been long. You thought it was worth it. You thought you had got everything under control. You were so very wrong, and now you are so very small. You are safe from the horrors out there, but you never expected the horror from in here._ ”

“Stop.” Elias commanded.

_“You cannot die. No one can die. We are all here now, living in the world you created. You see their pain and you hear their suffering and you think nothing. You feel nothing.”_

“Stop it!” Elias shouted.

Cecil began to yell, _“You feel no guilt! You should have! You know you should but you can’t! When Peter died, you felt nothing! You’ve been feeling nothing! But now I’m here, and I’m making you feel everything they felt! Everything!”_

Elias screamed, tears running down his face. He tried to claw at his eyes, but he couldn’t. There were no eyes to claw at. He cried helplessly on the floor as a blank-eyed Cecil watched.

Cecil began to regain self control, and covered his ears, waiting for Elias to stop _screaming_. When he did, Cecil checked on him. Elias had passed out again. Cecil fell back into the throne.

“God,” Cecil said, visibly shaking, “I did that...I…” He hadn’t meant to. It was so easy in this world to slip into something monstrous, and Cecil didn’t like that. His years and years of feeding the Eye was coming back to bite him. Cecil looked down at his microphone, and began to count the hours until Carlos would speak to him again.

* * *

“You…heard Cecil?” Jon asked, raising an eyebrow, “On this radio?”

Carlos nodded, “I did! He was talking about you, in his radio voice, and I then I spoke to the radio, hoping he could hear me and he...he could!” Carlos smiled down at the radio.

Martin believed him. He loved the idea of Carlos talking to his husband through the radio. It was cute. Martin knew that Jon didn’t believe him.

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Positive.” Carlos said, “I asked him some questions, and apparently he’s here, in this world.”

Jon frowned, “Cecil is here?”

Carlos nodded, “Yes, I just said that.”

Martin watched as Jon turned away, deep in thought. Something about Cecil being in their world meant something, something bad. Why? It wasn’t like _he_ was the one who took over Elias’s position.

Martin paused, “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit indeed.” Jon said, his shoulders tensing, “The Avatar is Cecil, and now _he_ rules this world.”

Carlos was silent for all of two seconds before sighing and saying, “That...actually does seem plausible, yes.”

Jon relaxed and let out a sigh, “Look, I don’t like that hypothesis as much as the next guy, but…”

“Well we can’t kill him.” Carlos said instantly, “Maybe he doesn’t...know what’s going on.”

“Yeah!” Martin said, “We can’t _kill_ Cecil.”

“I wasn’t saying that we should.” Jon explained, “But we have to address this, because now Cecil is, well, I guess this would mean he’s technically the Head of the Magnus Institute.”

Martin burst out laughing, “What?!”

“It’s-It’s true!” Jon stuttered, “Martin, stop laughing!”

Martin did not stop laughing. He laughed so hard that he started crying, and soon, it turned into actual crying.

“That’s just great, isn’t it?” Martin said through tears, “Dethroning Elias was never the answer, then? What are we going to do?!”

Jon took his hand and held him close, “We’ll figure it out, Martin.”

Carlos put a comforting hand on Martin’s shoulder, and together they waited until he was better, or at least okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martin’s around thirty, right? So...it wouldn’t be weird if...Carlos was a father figure...right?
> 
> Anyway, I don’t like this chapter that much. Probably my least favorite because of the Lonely and also what Cecil does. RIP in peace to Cecil, though.
> 
> (Also) Me, when I can’t figure out how to move a scene forward: Just skip to Cecil POV! That probably works every time and is no way repetitive and boring!


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: Annabelle, mentions of Callum Brodie and Jared Hopworth.

Annabelle Cane had been to Night Vale once in her life. It was a rather short trip, a quick pop in then back to her world. She was in Night Vale for a total of five hours, in all of her webby glory, and no one had noticed. They had walked past her as if she were a normal civilian.

She saw a family of three, two humans and a spider. A very, very large spider. The human child called the spider “mother”. Annabelle thought she rather liked Night Vale.

She left later that day, after sleuthing around and learning about every single citizen in Night Vale.

Years later, Annabelle was on a telephone call with a Night Vale celebrity.

Of course she had known about Carlos the Scientist! He was all the Voice ever spoke about, and Annabelle could smell the Distortion all over him. She had planned to talk to Martin, instill doubt in him about Jon, but speaking to Carlos was much more interesting.

Unfortunately, her plans to rope Carlos into her own scheme failed. He was trusting of the Archivist and Martin. He shared his life with them, and they did in turn. They became fast friends, fast family. It would be sweet if it wasn't everything Annabelle was working _against_.

That was fine, though. Annabelle was crafty, and she could get her way. Helen was, luckily, on her side. Apparently a world full of horror and suffering didn’t really ‘vibe’ with her. Annabelle could have guessed that.

Annabelle had liked the world as it was. She loved manipulating people in normal settings, and she _loved_ to play games. In the world they were in, this new world, she was bored. There were no people anymore. They were just fear livestock, and she hated it. Not because she liked regular humans, though. No, they were gross.

See, Annabelle’s plan was rather clear. Find a way to return the world to what it had once been. No one knew or Knew how to do that, but Annabelle was certain that there was a way! And with the Scientist _and_ the Voice, surely they’d be able to bring it back.

Annabelle never thought she’d attempt to make a ritual. Especially not a ritual that would bring back civilization. But honestly, she had no choice.

Annabelle’s first step was to find Basira. She was a woman who was as tough as nails, and Annabelle liked that. She would need her, or at least need to use her. Only, Basira couldn’t be persuaded against finding Daisy.

At first, Annabelle was frustrated. _Clearly_ Daisy was a lost cause. Then, Annabelle just realized that they were a pack (pun intended) of funky lesbians! And Annabelle _loved_ lesbians! Which meant she _had_ to save them from their own tragedy!

Basira was lurking around in the Dark’s domain, where the brat Callum Brodie stood. Ugh, Annabelle did _not_ want to deal with children right now.

Still, she could manipulate herself away from him, find Basira where Callum won’t see. It would be easy. One of her more boring jobs.

It took her a few days to find her. Helen wouldn’t lend a door or a hand even despite being on Annabelle’s side. She said she was too busy watching the Voice.

_“It would literally take two seconds.”_ Annabelle had told her, over the phone of course.

_“Two valuable seconds of my time! I’m watching an Apocalypse Drama over here. A ‘will they/won’t they’ situation, except with more ‘will they murder him’. I’d at least think you’d understand, since you’ve got your webs wrapped around the Archivist’s_ escort _.”_ Helen chuckled and Annabelle rolled her eyes.

_“Would it help if I said it involved women who love women?”_

_“Sorry, love, it wouldn’t. I do wish you well though with your lesbians. Ta!”_

So yes, it took a few days. Annabelle had to walk all the way to Callum’s domain, and she had nearly tripped about a dozen times.

“I weaved this dress _all_ by myself.” Annabelle grumbled, as she walked through the Dark, “I’ll be damned if it gets _mucked_ up here!”

When Basira was close, and tried to make herself as presentable as possible, which meant that she leaned against the tree and hoped her semi-grotesque womanly features would cause Basira to swoon. She knew it wouldn’t, but she couldn’t help but try.

Basira walked past her and hardly noticed her. Annabelle had to whistle to get her attention.

Basira stopped, and turned around, her gun pointed at Annabelle.

“Hello, Basira.” Annabelle said, “I’m-”

“Annabelle Cane.” Basira finished, “What do you want.”

_Ugh,_ Annabelle thought, _she’s so snippy._

“Just that you head back a bit, meet a few friends of yours. Two to be exact. And, well, a stranger, lowercase S.” Annabelle smiled politely at her, and Basira shook her head.

“I’ve got my own shit to deal with.” Basira turned away.

“That’s alright, then. I was going to offer you a solution that would save Daisy and the _entire_ world, but that’s alright. I’ll just be on my way.” Annabelle began to walk away.

“Wait, stop!” Basira lifted her gun up to Annabelle again, “Tell me what you know.”

“Let’s make a little deal,” Annabelle said, “I’ll tell you _part_ of what I know. I’m afraid certain parts of this cannot be given to just anyone.”

Basira’s eyes flicked down to her gun, then back up at Annabelle, “Fine. Tell me what it’ll do.”

“Well, it will _save_ the world! Return it back to normal! Maybe even give humans more time to fix climate change, too. Your friends would be, well, no worse for wear. Daisy would be regular, human Daisy. No Hunt involved.”

“And...and what about Jon?” She asked, “If he’s still alive.”

Annabelle smirked, “Well, if things go according to plan, you won’t have to worry about him, at the end, I mean. If you decide to _help_ me, you’d have to interact with him, and Martin, and the stranger.”

“Lowercase S.” Basira said to herself, “How do I know I can trust you? What would you get out of this?”

“You can trust me.” Annabelle said, “Which...I don’t have much to prove that you can, besides the fact that I want the world to return to normal. I hate it here, more so than you do, trust me.”

”Right.” Basira lowered the gun, “Fine, I’ll do what you say. What do I have to do?”

“Go to Jared Hopworth’s domain. The Flesh. If I were you, I’d head there immediately. You might miss something you want to see.” Annabelle pointed in the direction of Jared’s domain.

Basira nodded, and took off immediately. Annabelle smiled, and pulled out her phone a minute later.

“Helen, dear,” Annabelle said, “I believe my mission was a success.” The squeal from the phone may have broken normal telephone lines, but this wasn’t a normal world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to split this into two chapters because of the length and pacing (insert sad face), but at least Basira is on her way. Also yes, I think Daisy and Basira are in lesbians together, what of it?


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are: realizations, a new person, and discussions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Human plants (I do love TMA), guns and knives, discussions of Elias

Jared Hopworth was dead. Carlos had watched all of it in its fleshy horror. He didn’t even throw up afterwards. A small part of him thought that maybe he had just been used to it, that he had seen all the horrors in Night Vale and he had gotten used to it. Carlos knew that wasn’t true, that the small part of him was just holding out hope. No, Carlos was immune to it. 

During the...the _killing_ , he was strangely calm. Usually Carlos had to fight with himself when staring down danger. But in this world, Carlos was completely different. Carlos had stared at the killing of a _thing_ that was made up of probably a dozen people, and he hadn’t even blinked.

Carlos still felt he was the same, though. He still cared about his family, and he still wanted to help people. But this huge difference of not being afraid made him feel...wrong. Anxiety and fear had always been a part of Carlos, even if he didn’t show it. Anxiety and fear is something that most humans have. 

_You’ve got to be logical about this,_ Carlos thought, _you aren’t a normal human, of course there would be differences. See, you’re getting all worked up about this, you’re scared about not being human. Doesn’t that count for something?_

Cecil had no trouble being himself. Carlos had always been amazed at that, even when he had barely known Cecil. He was very public about his thoughts and his feelings, which would get him in trouble often.

Carlos thought faintly about Telly the Barber, the man who had cut his hair years ago. He remembered hearing about his sudden bout of madness on the radio, from Cecil. At the time, Carlos thought nothing of it, because surely it was a coincidence. Years later, he had realized that Cecil had caused it, that Cecil had Looked at Telly and changed him.

Maybe Carlos was becoming like that now, because Carlos thought that maybe it was better for him. Better to be insane and completely uncaring of the normal horrors of everyday life.

Jon was no doubtledly having trouble with a similar realization. He felt shameful of what he was doing, he felt wrong. Carlos looked inside himself, and he tried to search for something wrong, but he found nothing. He was perfectly imperfect, as Cecil would put it.

_The human brain is amazing. It’s filled with chemicals and electricity, and it changes every second. Personality is a blob that is being molded and constricted by walls of thought and morality._

Carlos was ~~a scientist~~ the Scientist and the realization didn’t quite hit him like a bus, but more like a slow bucket of water.

“Jon, we _are_ doing good, right? Making things better?”

Carlos turned around to face his friends. Jon was going to say something that was untrue, and Carlos wanted to stop him.

“Of course we are.” Carlos said, “Don’t you feel it? The Eye’s hold weakening?”

That would be Cecil, of course. He was never a bad person, not like Elias. He cared about people and about communities and _definitely_ not corporations, which meant that the world was, slowly, becoming something like Night Vale.

Jon shook his head, “Weakening? It isn’t.”

Carlos sighed, “Fine then, changing. It’s sort of…” He made a weird circular motion with his hand, “It’s becoming less…”

“Less?” Martin asked.

“Not what Elias envisioned.” Carlos answered, “The people, back at the Desolation Domain, they’re normalizing the fire. They’ve accepted it.”

“How is that any better?” Martin asked.

“Because now they aren’t scared all the time. Now it’s their new normal, and they go from there, creating their new lives.” Carlos stared at Martin, “What do you think Night Vale is? It’s exactly that.”

“Right.” Jon said, “So it has the capability to change.” He frowned in concentration, “Which means that someone who’s normal has to be Head of the Institute.”

“Who?” Martin asked.

There was a squelch off in the distance, and they all turned to face it. Carlos narrowed his eyes, and focused on where the noise came from.

The large flesh plant split open, blood and bones exploding into the air, revealing a woman. Carlos didn’t know her, but she had a gun and she pointed it at Carlos.

“What the fuck are you?” She asked, taking the safety off. Carlos was positive it wouldn’t hurt him, seeing as how she was not the ruler of this world.

“Basira, put the gun down.” Jon said, “This is Carlos, and he’s normal.”

“No he isn’t.” She said, “Otherwise he wouldn’t be here with you two.”

“You can’t kill him for traveling with us, Basira. He promises not to hurt you. Right, Carlos?” Jon asked.

Carlos nodded, “Of course I wouldn’t.”

She took that answer, and lowered her gun. She walked closer to the group, stepping over human remains, careful not to step in something living.

“Jon, Martin, I assume you both have something to do with this?” She pointed up to the sky.

“Which, erm, which part?” Martin asked, “The beginning or the color change?”

“Both.” Basira answered.

“Elias tricked me.” Jon said, “He sent a statement, and I read it, and...the world ended. But, in my defense, the color change wasn’t my fault.”

“If anything it was mine.” Carlos said, “I didn’t expect that someone would follow me into this world, but it doesn’t change the fact that someone did.”

Basira crinkled her nose, “What?”

“It’s a long story.” Martin said, “Like...really long. The stuff Carlos has told us could fill up a whole book!” Martin laughed, but quickly stopped when he realized that no one else was laughing along.

“Two probably, but that’s not the point.” Jon let out a frustrated sigh, “How did you find us? Daisy isn’t anywhere _near_ here.”

“I heard there was a way to save the world.” Basira said, “The world and Daisy. We can return everything back to normal. So I found you guys.”

“Well, there is a way to save the world.” Martin said, “But...well, we’d have to _kill_ someone, and…”

Basira pulled out a knife, “Don’t worry, I can do it.”

Carlos glared at the knife, “No.”

“Why not?” She asked, “Elias deserves it. I’ll finish what I started, what _Melanie_ started.”

“I’d be all for that, Basira, but someone else already beat us to that, and now we’ve got to figure out what to do.”

“...Someone killed Elias?” 

“No, he just took his eyes.” Carlos explained.

“Basira, there’s a lot you have to understand,” Jon said, “Which means we have to start from the beginning.”

Basira cringed, “No way.”

“Not _that_ beginning. I mean the beginning of the apocalypse!”

“Right,” She said, “Okay, just dive right in, I suppose.”

* * *

“Okay, I’ve got a couple of questions.” Basira said, after Jon had finished his recollection, “Helen brought Carlos here from Night Vale, where Michael had left Carlos at. Why did Michael do that?”

 _Good question,_ Carlos thought. He had been curious about that as well, and Helen didn’t seem too keen on answering that question.

“We don’t actually know.” Martin said, “Helen was...well, she dodged the question.”

“And are there any hypotheses as to why Michael might have brought Carlos to Night Vale?” Basira asked.

“There’s a few.” Jon said, “We...It’s hard to Know what Michael attended, and Carlos’s, erm, _spiral-fication_ is a road block so the few ideas we have are glorified shots in the dark.”

“We’ll figure it out later, after the world is back to normal. There is probably a statement or something in your archives that’ll tell us something, but for now we need to focus.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than us.” Basira remarked. There was a glare from Jon, and Basira rolled her eyes.

“Well, with that out of the way, our next course of action would be to make contact with Cecil. The radio _is_ a viable option, but I’m getting rather uncomfortable sitting around in Bone Garden, so I suggest we pack it up and move it out.”

“What’s the next domain?” Martin asked.

Jon grimaced, “The Web.”

There was a moment of silence, where everyone quietly thought about their dislike for the Web before Carlos let out a loud sigh.

“Well, we might as well get this over with.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and they began, once again, to walk towards the panopticon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a new computer! Much faster than my last one, that’s for sure. Which means that, after this chapter (which was written on mobile, like, a week ago) there will be bigger and hopefully better chapters in the future. Plus, I’ve officially decided how I’m going to end (this part) of the series. I think you’ll like the outcome :)


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis spins some webs :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: spiders (but they’re more nicer), mannequins

This was the scene: a large scale theatre, built by one woman and a team of angels all named Erika. Carlos had been there at the reopening of that theatre. He didn’t go inside, but he had been  _ there. _ He had been home. The play that took place had been mediocre at best, and it honestly could have been better during the second act if they decided to use bungee rope.

This was the scene: a small group, walking through the theatre, none of them recognizing it. The world was changing faster than they had anticipated. Francis was now a stagehand, training to become a playwright for their own show. They were really passionate too. They had lots of ideas and lots of time. They listened to Lemon Demon.

Ever since their, well,  _ training, _ they’ve been much better. They’ve killed the Spider. They’ve taken control of the theatre and all of the others surrounding it. Now they, and all others, are putting on plays about the tales of Night Vale that the great Voice speaks about. Tales of horror, of comedy, of romance, and of tragedy. Francis loved retelling those in favor of the old ones. They were much more interesting and much more flavorful than those of the spiders.

Since Francis rules the domain, they decided to pull a move they liked to call “Scooby-Doo”, which, as you may have guessed, meant splitting them up. It was easy, especially if you had the gift of the Web on your hands. Francis simply tugged on a few strands, and they split apart.

Jon took his statements in the Tragedy part of the theatre, physically unable to look for Martin, and his friends, The Scientist and Basira. Basira was cast into the pits of Drama, where she fought her way out, fighting the urge to claw her eyes out as well. Martin was in the Romance/Tragedy, witnessing a rendition of The Voice and The Scientist from the Otherworld.

It was one of Francis’s specials, one that Francis had planned and written all by themself, although the source material had given them a lot of inspiration.

As for the Scientist, they had put him cast him into the pits of comedy, where he was plagued by laughter he didn’t quite understand. After all, comedy was subjective, and his sort of comedy wasn’t the sort of comedy that was ever shown in theatre. The noise would be too much, and the people would refuse to get out of his way. What choice would he have but to shove them away? And when that didn’t work? What would the Scientist do then? He would be all alone, surrounded by people, now laughing at him, again, just like before.

_ Before,  _ the Scientist would think, just for a second,  _ I remember before. When the world was normal and terrible. Helen was right, I don’t want to remember this, please, don’t make me remember this! _

Francis laughed at the thought. Michael would have been ecstatic to know what his ritual actually worked, just much later than he had intended. Francis would compose scores of music, all twisting in their own ways, changing over time. All for that one scene, for when the Scientist changes. Francis, for once, was really excited.

* * *

Martin hates crowds. That was a fact. He was a big guy and he was easily noticed, and people were assholes, especially in large spaces. However, most of the audience seemed to be staring at the stage, in awe of the show going on. Jon has warned them not to look at what was being portrayed. Martin assumed that they’d hook you in and force you to watch a show of cosmic horror forever, but...the room was oddly quiet. Aside from the actors talking, no one spoke. Martin didn’t dare even look or  _ listen  _ to the play in fear of being sucked in. Instead, he tried to find the exit. Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found. There were no doors, just walls and light and shadows dancing off of them. Martin watched the floor because he was afraid of the shadow. He plugged his ears because he was afraid of the music.

“Jon?” He asked out loud, in hopes that Jon would hear him, “Jon, where are you?”

Jon didn’t answer him, and he most certainly didn’t hear him. Martin knew it was hopeless, but he had to try something. He sighed and shook his head.

Someone tapped Martin’s arm, and suddenly, Martin was aware of every single sound in the theatre. The music was sorrowful, someone with a deep voice was monologuing their thoughts over the stage. Martin was trembling in fear and he couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe.

“Sir,  _ please,  _ watch.”

Martin looked down. The person who touched him was a little girl, with very curly hair. What was she doing here? Why was she asking him to do this? Why was Martin following her orders?

Martin looked up at the stage.

A man who looks similar to Jon sits at a desk. He is not tall, he is not short. He is not thin, he is not fat. He is Cecil, he is the Voice of Night Vale, Ruler of this Ruined World. Martin is looking at a portrayal of him, and he is not terrifying.

“I know not of what I am meant to say here, to my town or to myself. My thoughts elude me, as does my dear Carlos, for his...entrapment in the Desert Otherworld may not seem like such a dreadful thought for him, yet for me…” Cecil pauses for dramatic effect, “For me, it is the end of the world.”

The crowd gasps, and Martin can’t help but follow along. He somehow feels for Cecil, for Carlos, for everyone in the audience. He feels their pain for these two people, for his friend. Martin was in deep at that moment, he knew this. This was what Jon had warned him against. Yet he couldn’t pull himself away.

Cecil stands up, and everyone pulls back.

“Yet, I have to continue. I have to brave through the hardships. I love my town, and I love the people in my town. As long as I tell them everything is okay, they’ll believe it is.” Cecil looks down at the desk, where the microphone is, “They’ll have to.”

Cecil grabbed the microphone and leaned forward to speak, but stopped, and stared right at Martin. 

In that moment, Martin remembered that Jon’s eyes were green. They were pretty, and Martin liked to look at them and tell Jon that they were pretty. Cecil’s eyes, or Cecil’s actor’s eyes (how did they find an actor who looked exactly like Cecil) were purple. A dark shade that struck terror in his heart.

“Martin.” Cecil said.

Somewhere, the radio on the desk turned on. It wasn’t even plugged up.

_ “Martin.”  _ Cecil said, again, lining up with the actor on stage. Martin then noticed the spider web hanging from the ceiling. He followed it down to Cecil on the stage, and realized...it was just a mannequin the whole time. Not even a realistic one, a wooden mannequin where Cecil had been projected onto.

_ “Martin, can you hear me?” _

Martin snapped out of it, “C-Cecil? Cecil, I can hear you!” He began to walk towards the stage.

_ “It’s...it’s Cecil, but there’s no time for that now. You need to listen to me closely.” _

Martin grunted as he pushed immovable people away. They didn’t react, as their show had ended. Martin couldn’t save them now, no matter how hard he tried, but he really wished they could just move!

“Hold on!” Martin yelled, “I can’t-“ Martin tumbled over an elderly lady, “Sorry, just give me a bit.”

_ “We’re running out of time to do something, Martin! I-“  _ Cecil kicked something or something fell on the other end. Martin pulled himself up on the stage and pushed the mannequin to the side.

“Cecil, I’m here now. What is it?”

_ “It’s...first off, sorry for my outburst. I was recently made aware of a situation regarding my-Carlos.” _

Martin nodded, “Right.” He paused, “Wait, what’s wrong?”

_ “You need to find him. Immediately. Coming to this place was a mistake.” _

“Why me? Why not Jon? He knows how to travel through here? Or Basira?” Martin asked.

_ “Jon’s...preoccupied, for lack of a better word. And I’m afraid Basira might kill him if she gets there too late. Martin,  _ you  _ are the only one who can do this. You are the one he trusts the most, besides, like, me.” _

“Cecil, what does this mean? What’s happening with Carlos?”

_ “I can’t explain yet. I’m sorry Martin. I have to go. He’s in Section 12C or Comedy. I’ll open a door for you and I’ll Know directions.” _

The radio turned off, and the lights dimmed. Cecil was done speaking.

“Can’t catch a break, can we?” Martin mumbled to himself, before searching for a door. Behind the curtains on the stage, there was a door. Martin silently thanked Cecil, and opened it.

Then there were hallways.

They were normal hallways. They had spiders crawling through them, scuttering around, but they weren’t big and they weren’t killing or maiming anyone. They weren’t hurting anybody. The hallways were harmless, and therefore, Martin passed through them safely.

“If I were Annabelle, or whoever runs this place, where would Section 12C be?” Martin asked out loud. The spiders didn’t answer. They were spiders.

Martin stopped at a staircase, where he found a list of sections. Apparently, Martin had been in Section 5RT, where he had been watching a play called  _ The Year Without The Scientist _ , directed by Francis. Now, Martin searched for 12C, which was called  _ Life Before The Twisting  _ which was supposedly a comedy. Martin didn’t understand how that was supposed to be a comedy.

Maybe the irony of it was that it  _ wasn’t  _ a comedy. In that case, Martin should probably hurry up, then. He took off running, ready to save his friend.

* * *

When Martin got to 12C, Carlos was surrounded by people, screaming in his face, yelling unspeakable things at him. He was speechless and sobbing, unable to speak at one moment, and in the next…

For Martin, the room was an explosion of color. Lines didn’t exist anymore. It was just a wave of color. Martin couldn’t look down and see his hands or his legs. Then, it was over in a second, and all of those people were gone. Carlos stood where he once stood only...different. He was like Michael and Helen had been before the change. He could look at him, but if you looked too closely, you got a headache. 

Martin realized, in that moment, that he had failed Cecil.

“C-Carlos?” Martin asked.

“Martin, I...am in pain right now.” Carlos whispers.

Martin doesn’t know what to do. Jon would have a vague idea if he were here, but…he isn’t. Cecil thought Martin was the best choice, when clearly he wasn’t.

“Both cosmic and emotional. I am now a large...noodle of sorts. Look at me, Martin.” Carlos inserts his large translucent hand into his swirling chest, “Amazing, but also, terrifying. I am scared, and I don’t know what I’m scared about and that fear consumes me.”

Martin realized Cecil was right, Carlos trusted Martin. Nothing was okay, but they could figure things out together.

“It’s going to be okay.” Martin said, “We’re going to figure this out.”

Right at that moment, Jon walked through the door, and stared at the sight before him.

“Okay, can someone tell me what the hell happened back there?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anytime I want to write angst for TMA it goes fluffy...
> 
> Such a long wait, I am so sorry. But, here is a chapter. I don’t know why, but I’ve been listening to Spiral of Ants by lemon demon (esp bass and vocal only version) and it gives me inspiration to write this.
> 
> If you want to, please yell at me at my tumblr @bugsarecool (always be plugging) where I post about games, podcasts, or other stuff (mostly shit posts 😳) you can literally yell at me, I will yell back that is a guarantee it is a promise it is a swear 
> 
> Now, I would like to thank all those who commented. You have my heart, all of it ❤️ And all of those who even liked it have my liver bc that’s important too. I hope you guys have a wonderful day!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos and The Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: the dark, fish, crying, the spiral, referenced child death (spoiler alert, it’s Callum Brodie)

Helen grinned at Cecil, “You failed. He’s changed.  _ Just like I said he would. _ ” She whistled a tune and danced around him. She was happy, because she hadn’t failed. She had won. She had a powerful,  _ powerful  _ being on her side now, on their side. With Elias out of the way, and Jon completely clueless, the world was practically in their hands.

“I know.” Cecil said, calmly, “It was inevitable, which was why, as you clearly saw, I sent Martin to him.”

Helen stopped in her tracks, “I’m the Distortion, Voice, not the Eye. I don’t Know.”

“They’re friends, they’re close. The first few seconds of new existence counts, and his first seconds were of confusion, then of comfort. Of a friend being there for him in a moment of need.”

Cecil looks up at her, and Helen feels the world around them get dark. He’s going to compel her, and she’ll have no choice but to answer.

_ “You, the Distortion, have orchestrated this event since you’ve laid eyes on Carlos, years ago. You brought him here in the first place, you’ve forced my hand in coming here. Who are you working with? What are your plans? You are  _ going  _ to tell me or you are going to suffer a similar fate as Elias.” _

Helen gulped, and began to spill the details about her plans.

* * *

The plus side of having two Avatars was that Martin  _ really  _ felt safe now. Having Jon by his side was all fine and dandy. It was Jon, you know. Martin loved him, and he could hold his hand and kiss his cheek and Jon would kiss him back, and that was wonderful, but anyone could just walk up and no normal person would Know that Jon had brought on the end of the world. But Carlos was a being of Madness now, and Avatar of the Spiral. Everyone in the UK could see him now, because he radiated pure color.

“I like it.” Basira said, “Keeps them away. It’s going to help with the Dark.”

Carlos peered down at her. The man was constantly changing from five feet to ten feet tall. Martin couldn’t keep up sometimes.

“Dark nightlight.” He mumbled, “I’ll have to test out how light works in the Dark. Does it consume light? Is it...sentient or does someone control it?”

Basira shrugged, “Dunno.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon squeezed back, glancing at him and smiling softly. Martin smiled back.

Martin had been thinking about Carlos and Helen, and about what they could do to somehow get to the Panopticon. Helen could make a door but Helen couldn’t be trusted, and Jon couldn’t use her doors. Perhaps Carlos could, though.

Martin looked at Carlos. Maybe he could. He was still relatively new to the whole Spiral thing, but he wasn’t like Michael or Helen, despite his similar appearance.

“Jon?” Martin asked, quietly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He said.

“Do you think Carlos can make doors now?”

“None that I can walk through.” Jon sighed, “And I would like to find Georgie and Melanie before we get to the Panopticon, if we can.”

“Still.” Martin said, “If there was a way. We could end all of this, and the world could go back to normal.”

“We could...go back to Scotland if you want? Maybe not the safe house, but...our own?”

Martin loved the idea of that. Their own house, their own space, where things weren’t terrible for once. The only problem was that Martin had no clue how to get there. Neither did Jon, and that didn’t help, either.

The dark was fast approaching. Even the color radiating from Carlos seemed to dim, but not enough to where they couldn’t see around them. The houses were in perfect condition, clean and pristine. They were newly painted and even a few lawn decorations were scattered across the many houses. 

Basira frowned, “This...is not right.”

Jon nodded in agreement, “It’s not how things would have been, but things are changing. Keep an eye out. Carlos, watch out for anything that might come close from a long distance.”

Carlos didn’t give a response, but Martin knew he would do as Jon said. So they walked forward, together, leaving Basira and Carlos behind them. Just for a bit.

* * *

Carlos wasn’t quite sure what to think of Basira. The others seemed to like her, even if they were hesitant, but Carlos couldn’t. He didn’t take too kindly to people pointing guns at other people or anybody threatening to kill his family, apocalypse or not. Carlos was positive that out of their group, Basira and Martin were the only two that could be killed. Even then, Martin’s death probably wouldn’t last long.

“We’re just going to let them walk off?” Basira asked.

Carlos looked out into the distance, and saw no one approaching. It was safe. They were searching a house, talking to someone inside. A child, who had answered the door.

“They aren’t going to leave us.” Carlos answered.

“Sure about that?” She asked.

Carlos glared down at her. He could see approaching shapes now, dark and human in nature. He narrowed his eyes and frowned.

There appeared to be adults in the brush around them, standing menacingly around them with an empty gaze in their eyes. They appeared to be gathering, which was rather worrying. Carlos turned to look back to Jon and Martin, who were still conversing with the child.

“See something?” Basira asked, looking up at Carlos.

“A herd of adults is a bad sign, right?”

Basira thought about it, looked down at the ground in thought, then looked back up at Carlos, “Pick me up, I need to see it.”

Carlos cringed for approximately two seconds, before he carefully picked Basira up, and carried her on his shoulders. She stood, unsteady, for a few moments before she found her balance, and found the herd of adults, now closer.

“Oh... _ oh,  _ Jon! Jon!” She climbed down his arm. Carlos popped his elbow out so she would land on his hand safely, making her journey down a lot safer.

Jon turned around right as the first wave of haunting adults came through the first line of trees. The child behind him began to cry and fled back into her home.

_ “Damn it.” _ Jon hissed, before grabbing Martin’s hand and pulling him into the house, “Get inside, barricade the doors and windows!  _ Don’t  _ let them touch you!”

Carlos constricted and folded himself inside the house, and immediately began to pile bookshelves onto major windows and doors. Basira was pushing the couch against the front door, and Jon and Martin were working on the back door. Carlos turned his attention upstairs, where the child ran.

Basira was yelling commands. The adults were banging on the doors, saying nothing. Martin was yelling something back to Basira.

Carlos popped his elbow back in place, and slipped upstairs silently.

The noise was less pronounced from upstairs. He could still feel the intensity, and he couldn’t possibly imagine how stressful it was for a child, but it was calmer. Carlos closed his eyes and tried to return to a semi-solid shape, a normal form that wouldn’t scare a normal child. When he opened his eyes, he saw his reflection in a hallway mirror. He barely changed. Carlos sighed, and took the mirror off the wall. The next course of action was the find the child.

He opened one of the doors in the hallway, and found a queen sized bed and a very messy room. It was safe to say that she probably wasn’t hiding in there, but…

“Are you in here?” Carlos asked, quietly. No response. Carlos closed the door and moved on.

The next door he found opened into a small room, painted a nice yellow, decorated drawings of a small girl and many fish. Carlos smiles at this.

“Hello?” He asks, “Are you in here? I’m not going to hurt you. I was with one of the people outside. Jon was his name. He might have...told you.

No response. Maybe she wasn’t in here. Carlos turned to the pictures on the wall and sighed. He missed Esteban.

There was a creek, and Carlos slowly turned to see the girl crawl out of her closet.

“You’re a monster.” She whispered, “So...you’re good, right? Monsters are good now?”

Carlos nodded, “Yeah, I’m good. I’m a good monster. What’s your name?”

“Kaitlyn.” She answered. She steps closer to Carlos and hesitantly grabs his hand, “Are you going to save me?”

Carlos hesitates for a moment, before answering, “Yes,” because that’s what he was trying to do, wasn’t it? So why did it feel like he was lying? Why did it feel like he came up here for some other reason? His mind offered no other reason.

“Thank you.” She said, tears slipping down her face, “Th-Thank you.”

Carlos immediately pulled her close and began to shush her, more in the comforting way than the quieting way. He grabbed a nearby toy and gave it to her, and she quickly calmed down enough to talk again.

“I’m sorry,” She said.

“Never apologize.” Carlos told her, “It is not your fault.”

She nodded and the banging from downstairs could still be heard from their silence. Jon yelled at Basira, and Basira snapped at him. Martin asked if they were really fighting right at this moment.

“Why are they fighting?” She asked.

“It’s terrifying down there, and they have to focus on something else than the true monsters outside of these walls.” Carlos said, “They all have...a history, one that I am not a part of. As I understand, things didn't go well. You know the rest, probably.”

Kaitlyn nodded.

“Carlos!” Martin yelled from downstairs, “Carlos, can you, uh, help, please?”

Carlos led Kaitlyn down the stairs, and he found Martin standing at the bottom, pulling at his sweater nervously. He turned to face Carlos as soon as he heard his steps, but his face softened as soon as he saw Kaitlyn.

“Oh, hi.” He said.

“This is Martin.” Carlos said.

Kaitlyn nodded, “He was with Jon, the other monster.”

“Avatar.” Martin corrected quietly with no real force behind it, “Carlos, what are we going to do about them out there? Jon and Basira won’t stop arguing about Daisy and-and the end of the world, and they won’t address the issue which is-“

“The parents outside of my house.” Kaitlyn interrupts.

Martin nods in her direction, “Exactly, that. So...we’re the mediators here. We’ve got to work together. Well, you obviously don’t have to but Carlos and I have to so...yeah...”

Carlos looked down at Kaitlyn, “Do you want to do this?”

Kaitlyn nodded, “Yeah, I want to help you.”

“Alright,” Carlos said, “Let’s...do this.” He says, his voice filled with uncertainty.

Jon and Basira are silent. The adults outside are silent, but they are still there. Earlier, Jon warned Carlos about their touch. Carlos wondered if that would apply to Carlos. Carlos wondered if  _ his  _ touch would hurt them. After all, he was very bright, and they were now beings touched by the Dark.

Kaitlyn pulled Carlos towards Jon and he decided to further test this hypothesis at a later time.

“Kaitlyn,” Jon says suddenly, “These were the bad people you were talking about? Do you have any idea how to stop them?”

Kaitlyn shakes her head, “I’ve never seen so many at my house before. I think it’s because of the monster.”

“Carlos.” Carlos corrects.

Martin frowns, “That’s a bit mean, isn’t it?”

Kaitlyn shakes her head, “I don’t mean it like...that. I mean it nicely! He’s a good monster! Like the man on the radio. Or the wolf woman.”

Jon and Martin look at each other with a mutual understanding, and Carlos doesn’t understand but he doesn’t quite care at this point. The noise is  _ getting  _ to him, and he wants it to stop. He wishes he could do what Jon does, he wishes he could go all ‘Ceaseless Watcher’ on them. Or, rather, the Spiral equivalent.

Oh. Maybe he can. After all, he did it once, hasn’t he? When they were in the Web’s domain? 

“You’re thinking.” Jon said, “I don’t like that.”

“You should!” Carlos exclaimed, “I’m a scientist! I have an idea!”

“Well be quick about it!” Basira yelled, “They’re  _ beating  _ the house down!”

“They’re going to eat me!” Kaitlyn cried, “Just like how they ate Callum Brodie!” She burrowed her head into Carlos’s lab coat.

“Callum Brodie? They ate him?” Jon asked.

“Now might not be the best time, Jon.” Martin insisted, “Carlos, whatever you’re going to do, do it!”

* * *

Kaitlyn loved being swaddled by her mother when she was younger. She liked being held and surrounded by warm touches. She missed her mother, but her mother had long since grown cold even before the apocalypse started. When Carlos picked her up again, she felt like she was in the arms of her mother again, but not her mother who had been cold. She felt like she was a younger child, one who hadn’t yet been in school. For a second, she wasn’t scared at all, and she could see the monsters face very clearly. He was very bright, but she could still see him.

Then he passed her to the big man, the one who wasn’t a monster. His embrace was comforting, but not as comforting as the monster’s had been.

Kaitlyn remembered when the adults had turned. It wasn’t long ago. The monsters had been attacking them, like usual, when the adults who had been ignoring them all of a sudden became...hostile. The monsters did everything they could to protect the children. Some of the monsters still remain. Jack’s does. Kaitlyn’s does not.

But maybe this can be her new monster. He was strong and very bright and very twisty. He grew and sometimes he had very long hands and elbows and legs. She liked him.

When her monster went outside, Kaitlyn tried screaming for him to come back. The man holding her began to rock her, began to shush her and tell her that he was fine, probably.

The only way to describe what had happened was the word “unreality”. She had heard it once at school, when someone in a bigger class was talking about mushrooms, but she didn’t understand why mushrooms could cause what had happened. After all, mushrooms were only disgusting vegetables that she had once been forced to eat at dinner.

She first saw it when the wall wasn’t a wall anymore, but an explosion of all of the paint that had been. She saw every single fiber of wood in an instant, and she felt overwhelmed even with the man holding her.

Then it reached her, and she felt like she was the entire world itself. She could feel the sky breathe. She could smell dirt miles below her, and she could see shrimp colors. Then, it all stopped for a second, before it got sucked up again.

And her monster was back. She jumped out of the man’s arms and hugged him.

“You did a very good job.” He said, hugging her back.

She nodded, glad that the adults were gone now, forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I was gone for so long (FNaF in the distance)  
> Yeah sorry bout that, folks. Hope I made up for that with this. Probably not. Sorry again!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daisy isn’t a Hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No content warnings, I think :D

Daisy has been running for a long time. She was immune to most effects in most domains, a traveler. She stalked her prey and once she got them, helped them, she moved on. So far, they were small pickings. Small things, evil targets that hurt people that were subjected to this apocalypse that had been derailed. Or just people who needed help. Daisy didn’t know what was happening, but she knew that before it had been derailed, she was one of those who hurt.

There was a man on the radio who spoke about a town in America. Daisy wanted to find Basira and take her there, because they were, right now, the closest thing to normal. Maybe it was a trick. Maybe Elias was just tricking them, but Daisy was going to try her hardest to find that place.

These tasks she had set out for her were almost hard wired into her. It was not quite a need to hunt, but the need to save. The change was very clear to see and it scared Daisy quite a bit.

Now, Daisy was saving some random civilians. People who were trapped in the Exticiton’s domain. She wasn’t hunting anything this time, just pulling people out of the rubble of their things.

Here, she could hear the man on the radio. She never knew where the signal was coming from. Basira had told her once about how she had reasoned her way out of the Unknowing, and Daisy applied that logic here. Maybe there wasn’t a signal. Maybe any radio around the world that could transmit did so.

She took a break, after pulling the people up from their burrows  _ (“It’s safe to come out, I will lead you somewhere else.”)  _ Daisy sat down on a terribly dirty loveseat, and pulled the radio into her lap and listened.

_ “In the Vast, we have several people who have, in fact, completely forgotten that they have been falling. They have begun walking in midair and going about their daily business, while they are falling. When asked if they were aware they were plummeting from the sky at such high speeds, they simply turned and said, ‘What?’ Next, is our report about the Extinction. Night Vale, as you may know, we are very uncertain about this one, but it seems that someone is there now, helping those who are stuck there.” _

The man over the radio was like Jon, Daisy gathered. He Knew things without having to be there, he Saw without having to see. Except it seemed that he wasn’t exactly like Jon. He seemed to be filled with humanity. He often spoke of his husband, a scientist, very warmly. He spoke of his friends, and on one occasion, he spoke  _ very  _ warmly of his son.

Daisy knew Jon wasn’t quite as monstrous as she had once believed, but she knew that one had to pay the price to be an Avatar of the Eye, especially one as powerful as Jon. She knew the man on the radio could rival him, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had gone through the same things, if maybe he had also caused this as well.

_ “What a noble task for her to take. You know what I say, Night Vale. Community Service is always appreciated, especially when one earns one year of Free Wireless Internet from the Sheriff's Secret Police! They can’t watch you if you won’t let them!” _

Also Night Vale was very weird and apparently had been for a while. Or maybe this apocalypse had been going on for longer than Daisy had thought. She wouldn’t know, it was very hard to keep track. It was weird and yet...very safe compared to the horrors she had seen. It seemed that in America, things were calmer. Maybe because of the proximity or because it was simply America.

Again, Daisy wanted to find Basira and take her there. The man on the radio made it sound so nice, and Daisy wanted to relax. She wanted to hold Basira’s hand and just...just sit in a hot place. The desert community of Night Vale would be perfect for that.

_ “And I can offer it to you.” _

Daisy wasn’t surprised by this. The man on the radio often spoke randomly, to someone she didn’t know. He could communicate through the radio. He could hear through the nightmarish wastelands. It frightened Daisy just a bit, but she was sure he wasn’t talking to her. So she didn’t respond.

_ “Daisy, I’m talking to you.”  _ The man said.

Daisy looked down at the radio and scowled, “...Stop it.”

_ “I thought you wanted to come to Night Vale! That’s all you’ve been thinking of for the last, erm...five days. Sorry for looking into your head, by the way. It’s kind of hard to stop it at this point.” _

Daisy wanted to throw the radio away, but...she didn’t.

“Where’s Basira?”

_ “She is with The Archivist and...The Scientist. Everyone is calling him that now. Better get with the flow, as he says.”  _ The man sounded rather sad as he said so, and Daisy wondered if he knew this ‘scientist’.

Wait.

“The Scientist?” Daisy asked, “Like...your husband, who is also a scientist?”

_ “Yes, exactly. You’re very smart. Smarter than I am!” _

“Uh...thanks? What happened to him?”

_ “Oh, you know, he became an Avatar of the Spiral, a being of madness, the usual. He was already touched by the Spiral when I first met him so this wasn’t a surprise. It was just...well, to put it simply, a power play that I tried to avoid.” _

Daisy frowned, “O...Kay.”

_ “Right, I’m rambling. Sorry. You’ve noticed the change, right? The change in your world, I mean.” _

Daisy nodded, and she knew that the man could See, “Yeah. It’s...it’s tame. I’m not a monster, anymore.”

_ “Yeah, well, I have something to do with that. Yay me, I guess. That’s sarcasm. Wait, you could probably tell. Sorry, it’s a habit. I’ll get you into Night Vale. You and Basira. I’ll lend you that favor, if you do something for me.” _

Daisy frowned, “Alright, what is it?”

_ “I need you to go somewhere. This place, this house. The Eye can’t touch it, but I think you can. You’re of the Hunt, even if it’s an upgraded version. So, you  _ should  _ be fine.” _

“You sound unsure.” Daisy said, raising an eyebrow.

_ “Well, If I’m wrong, then I’ll let Basira kill me herself, how about that?” _

Daisy sighed, “Fine.”

_ “Great! Now, just direct these fine people out of this domain, and I’ll get you as close as I can to the house. And, erm, bring the radio. Wouldn’t want you to get lost without me, ha.” _

Daisy rolled her eyes. She’d have to put up with this man for the time being. For Basira.

“Before I do that, could you tell me  _ how  _ the world is changing?” Daisy asked.

The man was silent. Daisy stared at the radio, before he whispered.

_ “It’s a funny story, Daisy. I can’t tell it over the radio just yet, but...when we meet, I’ll be sure to let you know.” _

Meet? Daisy would have to meet him in person?

Before she could ask him that, the radio turned off by itself. Daisy sighed again, and stood up. Well, no point in getting him to open up. She had a job to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, well, well...if it isn’t the fic I’ve been procrastinating on (I’ve been procrastinating on every other fic tbh) Heads up: I am not going to kill Daisy. I love her too much, and I feel like killing her wouldn’t fit in with the Changing World so...this short update :))


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vast, and some old films.

Jon didn’t like Michael, and he didn’t trust Helen. The Distortion was just a very tangled mess of negative feelings in Jon’s brain. The comparison was ironic, don’t think Jon had failed to see that. 

Simon’s domain was huge. It was big and wide and open, and Jon had all the time in the world to think. And Jon found that it was easier to Know Carlos once he spent weeks (weeks? It feels more like months) with him. He knew the vague outline of what Carlos was. He also Knew who Carlos was, but most of that could be owed to Carlos speaking to him, constantly.

Jon truly didn’t think that Carlos was anything close to the Distortion. Maybe a weird product of it, but not  _ the  _ Distortion.

“I don’t think I understand.” Martin sheepishly admitted when Jon told him this.

“Well, think of it like this.” Jon explained, “You have the parent, and you have the child. The child usually never ends up exactly like the parent. They just stem from the parent.”

“The Distortion had a kid.” Martin teased.

Jon rolled his eyes fondly, “Yes, I suppose so.”

It was a strange thought. Even here, where Jon was constantly fed, he ached to learn the story. Of how Carlos  _ really  _ turned into what he was now. It couldn’t have been a small moment, it  _ had  _ to have been leading up for a while. Or maybe Jon just wanted someone he could understand.

“We should rest.” Basira said, ahead of them, with Carlos. Apparently, ever since that Dark domain they passed through, they’ve been “hanging out”, as Martin puts it.

“We don’t actually lose energy, though.” Jon pointed out.

“Then why do I  _ feel  _ tired?” Martin asked, his question clearly rhetorical.

“You could be sore and accidentally mistake that feeling for tiredness.” Carlos suggested, “Unlikely, though. I think it’s this place. Humans will need to feel tiredness and other physical feelings to have fear.”

“Human doesn’t count you, does it?” Basira asked.

Carlos shook his head, “Unfortunately, it doesn’t. I’m afraid...whatever happened to me changed me.” Carlos sighed, the colors around him dimming, some even turning grey, “The bright side is: I’ll get to perform experiments on myself.”

Basira nodded, “Alright then.”

Martin had packed a blanket. Jon Knew exactly where it was, and he laid it out on the dusty ground.

“It’s like a little picnic.” Martin pointed out before joining Jon on the blanket. Basira reluctantly sat down next to them without a word.

Carlos stayed where he was, and studied the sky. Or maybe he was just reflecting. Jon couldn’t tell.

“I guess we should talk.” Jon told Basira and Martin, “About what happened.”

“I seem to recall Kaitlyn mentioning Daisy.” Martin said.

Basira jumps to attention, “She did? What did she say?”

_ “‘He’s a good monster. Like the man on the radio. Or the wolf woman.’” _ Jon repeated.

“Cecil.” Martin says, with certainty, “He can speak through radios.”

Basira frowned, “Who’s Cecil?”

Jon looked over to where Carlos stood, and saw that he hadn’t moved or reacted.

“He…” Jon debated on what he should tell Basira. If he told her that Cecil was now the ruler of this world, then she’d want to kill him. Which...wasn’t good. Jon didn’t want to stop a fight, nor did he want Basira to die.

“He’s Carlos’ husband!” Martin chimed in, helpfully.

Basira disregarded Cecil. “Whatever the case, what Kaitlyn told us means that Daisy passed through. And that she wasn’t rabid.” That put a smile on Basira’s face.

“Where do you think she is?” Martin asked. He adjusted himself on the blanket, and leaned in closer to Jon.

Basira shrugged, “I don’t know. I’ve been tracking her for a while, and...it used to be carnage. Now, I haven’t seen anything like that. It’s like she’s disappeared or…” Basira stopped herself. She didn’t want to say the last word.

“I’m sure she’s fine.” Jon said, “I can...I can try to look for her, if you want. It might be difficult, but-”

Basira nodded, “Please do.” 

Jon closed his eyes, and tried to focus on Daisy. For a second, he got a glimpse of her. She was standing up, a bit bloodied and bruised, but otherwise fine. Then, she turned to a large house, big enough to hold all of them, and...she disappeared.

Jon opened his eyes, and found that Basira was gazing intensely at him, “What did you find?” She demanded.

“Daisy is fine.” Jon said, “I think. She was walking and then it just...I couldn’t See anymore.”

Martin laughed uncomfortably, “What?”

“She was walking towards a house. Then it just stopped. Like some sort of TV.”

“Bad comparison.” Basira pointed out, even though she had not seen what Jon had seen, “Do you recognize this house?”

Jon opened his mouth, then a memory came to his mind. Jon had been there before, when he was young. When he was a kid.

“Upton House.” Jon says.

“The tourist place?” Basira asks, “She’s there?”

“And we have a lot of ground to cover to get there.” Jon points out, “I’d love to make this go faster, believe me, but...I don’t know how we’re going to catch her there at this rate.”

Martin tapped his shoulder, “We can ask Carlos!”

Basira frowned, “Yeah, if Carlos picks us up at his tallest and runs really fast, we’ll get there sooner.”

Martin sighed, “I meant that we could ask him to make a door.”

That could work. Jon would just have to figure out how he could walk through his corridors.

“It…” Basira sighed, “It might be worth a shot.”

Martin clapped his hands, “Perfect!”

“But-” Basira said, “We’re still going to rest for a bit.”

Jon and Martin nodded in agreement. Then they finally began their rest, in silence.

* * *

Things were catching up to Carlos. Bad things. Things that Carlos didn’t want to think about. He didn’t even know what they were, but he knew they were bad.

Maybe that’s why Helen wouldn’t tell him about his past.

Carlos wasn’t in the mood for science, for once. He wanted to help his friends and he wanted to find Cecil, and he wanted to get home. He wondered if Esteban was okay. Then he stopped himself, and tried to focus on making a door.

Despite what Jon, Martin, and Basira thought, Carlos could hear them. He just didn’t want to speak to them, or anyone, at the moment.

The door idea wasn’t a bad idea. Helen did it easily. He saw Helen, and he could probably recreate it if he tried. All he had to do was focus.

Carlos closed his eyes and pictured a door, one like Helen’s. He tried not to make it an oak door.

When he opened them, he was greeted with the sight of an empty, vast place. It didn’t work.

Maybe if Carlos thought of a place, then a door would appear. Carlos closed his eyes again and clenched his hands. He thought of Upton House. He hasn’t seen it before this moment, but in his mind, it was very clear.

He opened his eyes. Everything was still the same. Carlos sighed. He should have asked how Helen made her doors.

It occurred to him that maybe he couldn’t make it. It did, and he didn’t like that thought. He was already so similar to Helen, it seemed. He should be able to make doors.

Carlos thought of the desert otherworld. Specifically, when Carlos had ushered Night Vale citizens back to their homes, while he stayed behind in the desert otherworld.

He closed his eyes, but not because he was trying to make a door again. He closed his eyes, because he was feeling overwhelmed. Such bad timing for that memory to come up. He shuddered and covered his face.

Soon, there was a pop in front of Carlos. He opened his eyes and removed his hands from his face to find a white door in front of him, aged slightly. Carlos ran up to it.

“Carlos?” Jon asked, “Why-you...there’s a door there.” Jon pulled himself away from Martin, and quickly jogged over to where Carlos was. Behind him, Martin and Basira packed up.

“I made it.” Carlos said, “I’m certain I did, I was…” He frowned, and looked away from the door.

Jon looked up at Carlos, “You heard us, didn’t you?”

“I did. I’m not hurt by anything you said, trust me. I just...I wanted to help.” Carlos motioned towards the door.

“And help you did.” Jon smiled at him, a tired smile, “Do you know where it leads?”

Carlos shook his head, “No. I suppose no one knows where doors lead, it’s all just a big guessing game, but...I do think it’s in this world. Not Night Vale.”

Jon nodded, and Basira appeared behind him, “Right. So we just...walk through that, then?”

“Yes, I think so.” Martin chimed in, catching up to the group as he stuffed the last bit of blanket into his bag.

“What’s the odds it’s going to kill us?” She asked, folding her arms.

“Zero?” Carlos offered, “I wouldn’t let you die!”

Basira hummed, but she didn’t sound too convinced.

“Well, we’d better get on with it.” Jon said, grabbing Martin’s hand, “Let’s hope I don’t explode.”

Carlos opened the door, and they all walked through his door. That was not a euphemism.

The hallways were black and white, completely devoid of any texture, of anything too stimulating. Carlos actually liked this place. And he liked the feeling in his gut, telling him where to go. 

“Right…” Basira said, “You’re definitely not Helen.”

“Like Anti-Helen.” Martin mumbled, “This place looks like a movie from the 1930s. Is that intentional?”

Carlos shrugs, “I’m not sure yet. That would require further testing.” 

Martin then focused his attention on Jon, “Are you alright?” He asked.

“Fine.” Jon said, sounding surprised, “I’m...fine.”

Carlos wasn’t. He could feel the tape recorder in his pocket. He could feel how heavy it was on him, like a load on his back. He wanted to destroy it, but…

That wouldn’t change anything. They couldn’t destroy the Eye, just yet.

“And you know where you’re going?” Basira asked.

Carlos nodded, and he continued to walk through his corridors. He passed many other doors with strange feelings surrounding them and made a note to check them out later. After all, they might lead to something scientifically interesting.

The first splash of color came for a cold, metal door in his hallways, that was tinged with blue. Carlos looked at the others, looking for a confirmation to open the door. They nodded. Carlos inhaled slowly, then opened the door.

* * *

The door opened up into a hospital. It wasn’t well lit, and Carlos could smell...urine. Basira groaned, and they all walked into the place with a very similar attitude. Then, when the door closed, it disappeared.

“Where are we?” Martin asked.

“Wonderland.” Jon answered, his reply immediate.

Carlos was  _ not  _ going to enjoy this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time, no see. Sorry.  
> Anyway, Carlos’s corridors! How cool are they? Took me a month to come up with this (I’ll have you know that the original draft involved Simon himself. Specifically...Simon and Carlos interacting. Yikes!) Will post the next chapter sooner rather than later (PLEASE HOLD ME TO THAT)


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doctor David/David

“Wonderland?” Basira asked, “Is that supposed to strike fear into our hearts or something?” She turned to look at the others, and saw the obvious fear on their faces.

“It is.” Jon said, “This place is strangely...unaffected by the change.”

“So it’s just a normal hospital?” Basira asked.

Jon shook his head, “No, it’s…” He sighed, “The new change. It’s full of fear. It’s still an evil place, which means we have to keep our guard up.”

“Why would it be unaffected?” Martin asked, stepping closer to Jon. Martin felt slightly terrified at the thought of traveling through a hospital that hadn’t changed.

Martin waited for Jon to answer. He scoured Jon’s face for a sign that he knew, but he didn’t find a clue. Jon  _ didn’t  _ know.

“I…” Jon mumbled off, trying to explain himself.

“It’s the Spiral.” Carlos reasoned, “It has to be that.”

Jon didn’t believe him. Neither did Basira. Martin could tell that from the looks of their faces and the downcasts of their glances, but Carlos was focused on the end of the hallway.

“It  _ is  _ a domain of the Spiral.” Jon runs a hand through his long hair, “Perhaps the change hasn’t reached this far? No, no, that  _ can’t  _ be it, I know it has…” Jon trailed off, and Basira turned to Martin.

“Keep an eye on Carlos.” She said, “I, uh...I know how to deal with Jon.”

“Do you?” Martin asked, his concern for Jon growing further, “You have to be caring, Basira.”

“I know, and I’ll try, but...I can’t figure Carlos out, and I don’t want to...Just-You take care of that because I’m sure he’s going to run off soon.”

Martin didn’t like Basira talking about Carlos as if he were some  _ child,  _ but...he would do as she asked. He agreed, and he left Jon to Basira, and joined Carlos at the last place his door had been.

“Are you...okay?” Martin asked Carlos, hesitantly standing beside him.

“I’m adequate.” Carlos answered, “I’m glad that we moved. I’m upset that we’re here. I feel like there’s something down there.” He pointed two long fingers down the hallway, and Carlos followed them.

“Down there.” Martin repeated, “And...you’re a scientist. I suppose you want to go...look?”

Carlos laughed, “I do, don’t I? I also...don’t? Can I talk to you about something, Martin?”

“Anything.” Martin said, “We’re friends, Carlos!”

Carlos smiled at this, but then he quickly frowned, “Before I turned, for lack of a better word, I remembered something.”

“What do you mean?” Martin asked.

“From before Night Vale, I think. Whatever it was, I was so...distressed by it. I immediately wanted to forget it, and I knew that Helen was right, in…” Carlos didn’t finish his sentence.

Martin didn’t know what this meant, either for Carlos or for the thing at the end of the hallway, “So...your life was bad?”

Carlos shrugged, “Maybe. I don’t know. I forgot it after I…” He motioned towards himself, and Martin got the gist.

“I, uh, I have experience with a bad life.” Martin said, wringing his hands together, “And I remember most of it, and I have to say that...forgetting it doesn’t make it any less painful when you do remember it. In fact...it’ll probably just come back stronger.”

“You speak from experience?” Carlos asked.

Martin nodded, “Yeah, I do. For me, at least, there was someone I loved who was worth remembering. Besides me, of course. I was worth remembering as well. You have your family now, but there could be another family waiting for you. Someone who loves you.”

“Loved.” Carlos corrects, before frowning, “I don’t know how I know that.”

Martin opens his mouth to tell Carlos that it’s alright, but Carlos begins to walk down the hallway at record speed. And Martin has to play catch up.

“Carlos!” Martin yells, “Do you know what’s at the end of this hallway?”

“I told you I didn’t.” Carlos answered, “But I do want to find out. Let’s hope...let’s hope it isn’t bad.”

Martin’s stomach dropped and he moved behind Carlos, rather than beside. He wanted to be in the protection on a seven, maybe eight foot radiant stick of swirling colors.

The hallway is much longer than what Martin had originally thought. Carlos must have walked for a good ten minutes before he stops, himself out of breath and tired. Martin very much so.

“Can...we go...back?” Martin asks through the pauses of deep breaths.

“You can.” Carlos says, “I encourage it. I don’t think this would be very fun for both of us, and I’d rather it be not fun for just me.” Carlos turned to look at the slightly stained wall beside him. The brown residue, probably fecal matter or vomit, he deemed more demanding of his attention than Martin. This place really was disgusting.

“No,” Martin said, as a final word, “I am coming with you. We are  _ going  _ together!”

Carlos continued to stare at the brown stain, “Fine. I will still take responsibility if Jon-”

“He won’t.” Martin said, “Because I won’t let him.”

Carlos finally looked at Martin, and he wore a very sad smile, “You know I’d do anything to protect you, Martin? You’re my friend, and I’d...I’d very much like to see my friends safe and sound.”

Martin didn’t think he had friends before. Wait, no, that wasn’t true. He had Tim, and he had Sasha, before she…

He had them, but they had changed, and they had left him. Carlos wouldn’t. Martin  _ trusted  _ that Carlos wouldn’t.

“I’d do the very same for you, Carlos.” Martin told him.

Carlos liked that answer. He continued to walk down the hallway, now that they had both caught their breaths. The light emanating from Carlos provided a decent sense of security for Martin, but only as long as he stayed nestled behind him.

They continued to walk for a few minutes down the hallway, which slowly turned into a very narrow corridor with very sharp twists and turns, until a sharp and familiar laugh interrupted them.

Martin recognized this laugh immediately. Carlos didn’t, because he didn’t recognize laughs very well. He was better with faces, and this face wasn’t in sight.

“Helen?” Martin called out, “Helen, show yourself!”

“I would, Martin dear!” Helen called, from a distance, “But I do believe that one must see the doctor first before they check out.”

“The doctor.” Carlos repeated, his own voice lathered with fear, “Helen, what do you mean? I-I don’t like doctors!” Carlos began to cover his face with his hands.

Helen stopped laughing, “Martin, why is the Scientist with you? He isn’t supposed to be with you.” She sounded so serious and concerned, more so than Martin had ever heard from her before.

“No, I’ve got this handled.” Carlos said, putting his hands down, “Helen, let us pass.” Carlos timidly stepped forward and tried to show confidence.

She stepped out of the shadows, and stood at least three feet taller than Carlos. She looked down at him with a furious gaze, with clear intent that she was  _ not  _ going to let him go anywhere but back from where he came.

“Return to the Archivist, Carlos.” She spoke, in a sweet voice, although her demeanor was not sweet, “You’ll see why you want to return when you do, and you’ll thank me when you see me next.”

“Will I?” Carlos asked, “You...I...you’re a being of deceit! I don’t think I’ll ever be thanking you!”

She seemed hurt by this. Truly hurt in a way that Martin hadn’t seen before. Martin felt bad for her. Carlos didn’t. He continued.

“I want to go. I want to see what’s there. So you will let me pass.”

“I won’t.” Helen said, even though her many colored eyes began to cry, “I won’t let you pass, Carlos. You  _ will. Go. Back.  _ Now, please.” Helen smiles, as vibrant mascara runs down her face.

“I will not.” Carlos said, “You can’t make me.”

Helen frowned, “I cannot.” She stepped aside, “You’re going to suffer. Not Martin. You, Carlos. Because if Martin did, we’d both die, and I’m not going to let that happen. You’ll have to go forward alone.”

Carlos looked back and forth between Martin and Helen, as if choosing or deciding between both of them.

“I’ll be fine.” Martin said, “You can go.”

Helen glared at Martin, “You rat.” That was very...un-Helen like.

Carlos nodded, and he took off into the darkness. Helen watched him go, tears running down her face. She stood silently for a minute, before wiping her tears and walking back towards Jon.

“Aren’t you going to get him?” Martin asked, following Helen, unsure of whether to follow Helen or follow Carlos.

“No point.” Helen snapped, “He’s reached the doctor, and...well...I’m sure, your love bug will be airing out all of the Scientist’s feelings at this point!” She waved her hands in the air out of frustration, and moved faster. Martin looked behind him, and regretted letting Carlos go. He did a quick one-eighty, and ran as fast as he could to go get him back.

* * *

The hallway ended for Carlos as soon as he stepped out of Martin and Helen’s sight. There was only a door left, one for him to walk through. One with a bloody sign that said “Doctor David” in the middle.

“Well…” Carlos said to himself, “This certainly feels more like home.”

And it did. Doctors weren’t to be trusted. They wanted to steal your identity and run away with their significant others to Peru back in Night Vale. Carlos had to remind himself that this wasn’t Night Vale, though. This was...another place, a place that wasn’t a place exactly. It was Wonderland. 

Carlos opened the door to Dr. David’s office, and saw a strange man sitting at a desk. Just waiting.

“Carlos.” Dr. David said, calmly, “I’ve been waiting for a while. You’ve finally shown up. Sit down now, please. I would like to finally start.”

The chair was too small for Carlos. He was very big now, and very twisty. Still, Carlos did the best he could with what he had, and forced himself in the chair.

“Right.” Carlos said, “So...you’ve been...waiting for me?”

“Yes,” Dr. David said, very disinterested in what Carlos had to say, “I have. You’re my new patient, after all. Checked in this morning, yet I haven’t seen you all day.” Dr. David narrows his eyes slightly, “I wonder why that is. Where have you been, Carlos? Have you been sneaking around? Stealing medicine, perhaps?”

“Uh…” Carlos isn’t quite sure where this “doctor” is going. He is quite sure this man isn’t a doctor at all. 

“What’s your last name, David?” Carlos asked, easily deflecting. He doesn’t want to have a go with this man.

Dr. David opened his mouth to answer. Dr. David doesn’t speak. He looks clueless, like he doesn’t know, and Carlos understood this cluelessness. Carlos doesn’t know his last name either.

“Right.” Carlos said, “Let’s trade places today, because I actually have my doctorate.” Carlos snapped his fingers, and the room spiraled and contorted. After all, this is a domain of the spiral. Carlos sat in a much more fitting seat, and Dr. David it on a couch in front of him.

“That worked.” Carlos pointed out, “So...do you remember anything from your past life? From before the change?”

“The change?” Dr. David asked, “I don’t...I can’t…” He stopped many times, his voice choking up and his eyes filling with tears. Carlos knew that this man has caused suffering, but...he also knew that if he could return his memories in some way, then he could stop. Then he could be good again.

“Right.” Carlos leaned back, “Your name is David, then. Take me through the last memory you remember. Nothing big, just the last...small thing. Like a color.”

“Red.” David answered, after some time.

“Good.” Carlos applauded, “Was there something with this red? Was it a flower?”

“It was…” David frowned, “Carlos, you’re supposed to be in your room-”

Carlos shook his head, hoping that David wouldn’t revert back, if that were possible, “David, remember the color red, please.”

David stared at him, and nodded, “I...I need help, I’m supposed to be somewhere. Where is Andre?  _ Please,  _ I need Andre!”

Carlos didn’t know who Andre was. David was now crying and rocking on the couch now, holding himself and shaking. Carlos wanted to comfort him, and tell him that it was fine, but...but Carlos didn’t know. 

Martin burst into the room, holding some sort of wood plank, wielding it like a weapon. David didn’t look up from his crying fit.

“Martin?!” Carlos asked, “What are you doing?!”

“I thought you needed help.” He said, before setting the wood plank down, “This is...Doc-”

“David.” Carlos said, “It’s just David. I assume Helen has let you pass, then? And I assume that Jon and Basira are coming?”

Martin nodded, and David continued to sob.

“Well, you’d better...wait for them outside, then.” Carlos said, eyeing the door. Martin nodded, and quietly slipped outside.

* * *

“You thought he would...gaslight me, blame me, and belittle me?” Carlos asked, after Helen explained Dr. David and Wonderland House to Carlos.

Helen nodded, “Yes, Carlos, I did. But you must understand that this place was not supposed to change, because it hadn’t yet changed, for some reason.”

“Well, it’s changed now.” Carlos pointed out.

David was now, for worse or for better, aware of who he was. He was aware of who he was missing. He now sat with Jon, Martin, and Basira as Jon explained what happened to his husband.

“Carlos.” Helen said, “Do you want to come with me?”

Carlos nearly choked on air, “What?!”

“Do you want to come w-”

“I heard you. I just…” Carlos cleared his throat, “Helen, no offense, but I do believe I told you what I thought of you earlier.”

Helen’s shoulders sagged as she remembered this, “Right, I remember, yes. Well, if you do remember this, I’ll be there.” She paused, before her door appeared and she walked through it.

Carlos really hated Wonderland.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huh, weird happenings going on. Also told you I’d update. Next chapter: Cecil POV. Fully. Yeah, it’s the good stuff.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil talks to some people. He learns some stuff.

Cecil wasn't used to having an assistant before. Sure, he had interns by the handful, but an assistant? One that couldn’t die? That wasn't something his brain was equipped to deal with. There were a lot of things his brain wasn't equipped to deal with in this new world.

Rosie was a nice woman. A bit intrusive, but that was good! In Night Vale, you had to know a few secrets that were being kept from you to know that you were safe! You had to know if you had any secret enemies. Rosie had a lot of secret enemies, if one could classify enemies as past threats against one’s wellbeing. Luckily, she avoided that by being smarter, by snooping around and listening in.

Now she had a new boss. Cecil didn’t really know if she liked that. Maybe she was close to Elias. Maybe she hated him. She didn’t really move from her spot outside the office they were in. Cecil didn’t really leave the office. Maybe he should!

He stood up from the throne, and felt the faint light from outside shift. From a corner, the eyeless husk of Elias, erm, Jonah Magnus, chuckled.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked.

“Talking to my…” Cecil frowned, “My assistant?”

Jonah...Elias? Cecil was getting very tired. At this point, the Eye couldn’t tell the difference between their identities, “Do you need even more fear? Are you still hungry?”

Cecil shook his head, “Erm, no, not really.” He walked out of the room, feeling a bit confused. Maybe Elias was just confused. After all, he was cut off from the Eye, completely human once more. Cecil imagined that would be disorienting.

Rosie sat at her desk, lit in a yellow light coming from a desk lamp. She looked tired. Cecil wanted to give her some time off. Maybe, when Cecil finally got the courage to leave soon, he would let her go too. Maybe he’d give her breaks. Maybe he’d take her on walks.

Her eyes snapped up to him, and she put on a fake smile, “Hello, Mr. Palmer! Do you need anything?”

Cecil shook his head, “No. And it’s just Cecil, Rosie. Do you want to chat for a bit? About anything? Maybe the optical illusion in the newspaper?”

Rosie shook her head, “There’s no newspaper out here yet, Mr...Cecil.” She smiled, a little less pained, “Maybe soon.”

“Hopefully.” Cecil let out a sigh, “Do you like me, Rosie?”

Rosie blinked, surprised that her boss had asked her such a raw question, “Of course, Cecil!”

“Just checking. I know J-er, Elias wasn't very good, in the moral sense.”

“Who?”

Cecil frowned, “Elias, Rosie. The person I replaced.Elias Bouchard.”

Rosie tilted her head up slightly, “You replaced James Wright, Cecil. I don’t think there was ever an Elias Bouchard in the Institute.”

Cecil opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Maybe...she was right. Memory seemed to be fading fast of Elias. That was not good, not good at all.

“I...I have to go.” Cecil said, running back into his office.

Jonah sat in his corner, still his small and shriveled self. Cecil’s memory returned quickly, and he only knew about it because he was aware of its absence.

“What was that?” Cecil asked.

“What was what?” Jonah was mocking him. Cecil didn’t like to be mocked, but he also didn’t like to be mean.

“You…” He sighed, his anger fading, “This isn’t good for the Archivist.”

“I’m going to let you in on a secret, Host. The Eye doesn’t need the Archivist anymore. Not when it has you, reshaping the world in  _ your  _ perfect image.”

Cecil wasn't one to believe Jonah’s manipulation’s. After all, he had tried many schemes and plans before, but...this one was different. It seemed different. It seemed truthful, because Cecil had been shaping the world in his image, hadn’t he? He’d been changing the world, not back to how it had been, but to how Night Vale was.

“So, how do I get it to go back?” Cecil asked.

“You can’t.” Jonah said, “This is the best case scenario.”

Cecil didn’t want to believe that.

This was Carlos’ world. This was the world he had come from. Night Vale wouldn’t be special without this world. He had to find a way to change it back. And he had to do it without leaving.

* * *

Somewhere, on the way to a factory, four people walked together. Three of the four began to lose the memory of the person who had antagonized them for such a long time, the person who had ruined their lives. They barely had enough time to realize they were losing something. They felt a surge of terror for a second...then it was gone.

Carlos was confused as to why his companions had stopped. He was confused as to why they had been panicked for a fleeting moment.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice sounding like bells. Exactly like bells.

“Fine.” Jon said, out of breath, “Just...a wave of panic, I suppose. Let’s continue.”

* * *

Daisy was sleeping when it happened. She had dreams of Elias, smirking at him, telling her that she was a killer. Then...the dream stopped. She was forgetting, and it scared her. She woke up in a frenzy, sweating and scared. She couldn’t remember the dream. She couldn’t remember who she had been afraid of, _what_ she had been afraid of. All she could trace her memory back to was her job. She couldn’t remember much about that, though.

* * *

Somewhere, below the Institute, Melanie gripped her cane. She could feel the memory of someone leaving, someone being forgotten. Someone she hated. Despite the fact that she hated them, she didn’t want to let them go. She didn’t want to let go of the fact that she wanted them to die.

She quickly felt around for a pen and paper, the terror of urgency flooding her bones. Once she grabbed them, she wrote out the name. She wrote: Elias B

That was all she could remember before it all faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I got depressed! Also, some story/lore changes. Might go back, will probably not. I'm still very interested in this story, though! I will continue it!  
> (Also, I didn't mean to make this sound like TAZ Balance, sorry)


End file.
